A Thousand Temptations
by lickitysplit
Summary: Zeldris is sent to take the Vampire princess Gelda back to the demon realm for the Demon King. During their journey across Britannia, they must face many dangers—not least of all, each other.
1. The Demon Suitor

**Summary:** Zeldris is sent to take the Vampire princess Gelda back to the demon realm for the Demon King. During their journey across Britannia, they must face many dangers—not least of all, each other.

 **A/N:** So here's the situation. A couple of months ago I wrote a short story called _Sacred Inferno_ about Zeldris and Gelda. If you were one of the four people that read it, you're probably wondering, isn't this the same story? Well, not exactly.

You see, my two dear friends, BettyBest2 and Cerulean Grace, proceeded to discuss this pairing every day for the next three months, and now I have developed this completely different story for them. So please enjoy, and please forgive me for returning to this pair for another round.

* * *

 **Chapter One: The Demon Suitor**

Zeldris stalked towards the throne room of the king, answering an unusual summons. Despite being a commander in the Demon King's army, having made his way up through the ranks faster than any other officer, even his brother Meliodas, it was rare to receive an audience in person. Usually the Demon King gave his orders through his regents, or sent word through messengers. It had been a long time since he had a private audience with the king.

As he entered, he performed a great bow before walking up the long aisle of the room. The last time Zeldris had been here, it was packed with people, talking and dining and drinking and observing the newest affair the king had arranged. This time, the room was empty and silent, making it seem almost cavernous as he approached the dais where the king's throne sat.

When he was still a third of the way there, Zeldris stopped and bowed again, waiting for the king to acknowledge him. Several long moments went by before the king rasped, "Zeldris. How good of you to come."

"Only to serve you, Sire," he responded, straightening and raising his eyes. The king was shrouded in darkness, making it difficult to discern his large frame and the long, knotted hair that hung around him. The darkness moved around him as he spoke, like a living shadow. "I have a task for you."

Zeldris bowed again. He kept his body and face stoic, even as his mind thrummed with anticipation. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this to prove himself. With two very powerful older brothers, Zeldris had always been in their shadow, being the last. He had never been given a direct order from the king without one or both of the others being involved. But he would be damned before he would show any eagerness in front of the king.

"Are you familiar with the Kingdom of Edinburgh?" the king asked.

Nodding, Zeldris said, "The Vampires, Sire?"

"Yes." The king's voice reminded him of a serpent. "The king has a daughter, whom he will not allow to marry unless the suitor can best him in combat. Her dowry is half of Edinburgh's treasures. Izraf is a very rich man. I _want_ that dowry." He leaned forward a bit on his throne. "You will go as my champion and win me the daughter as my bride. Bring her back here, and you will be richly rewarded."

This was to be his great task? Fighting an old vampire to bring back some woman for the king? Zeldris ground his teeth as he stood there. This task was well beneath his abilities, but he knew better than to question the king's command. "I will return with the girl," he said slowly.

"Good," the king said. "I would have sent one of your brothers, but they are both occupied at the moment."

Zeldris simply nodded in answer. He was irritated by the request, and hearing that he was not the king's first choice after all only added to his agitation. Now he was just anxious to go and return, and have this whole ridiculous errand finished. "Will there be anything else, Sire?"

The king made a venomous sound that could have been chuckling. "Must you be so formal, Zeldris? Of all my sons, you are by far the least pleasant."

"Is that what you would like?" he asked coldly, raising his eyes up to the dark figure. "Would you like me to be pleasant?"

The sound came again, and now Zeldris knew the king was laughing at him. Anger swirled inside of him, but he kept his energy and his emotions neatly in check. It definitely would not be prudent to allow the king to even suspect he would raise a voice or a hand against him. "I suppose not," the king finally responded. "Pleasantries and charm do not suit you."

With that final insult, Zeldris gave another bow and whirled around. He stalked from the throne room, listening to his father call for the next visitor. He had forgotten about him that quickly, but that was to be expected.

With Meliodas and Estarossa around, the king had never had any reason to give him more than a glancing thought. Meliodas was the most powerful demon in the kingdom, the leader of the Ten Commandments, and assumed successor to the throne. Estarossa was a favored servant who had been gifted with the most powerful decree out of all of the king's Commandments. Both sons were often called upon by the king to do his bidding personally.

And Zeldris? He had been raised with the same privileges, molded into the warrior and leader the same as the other two. Yet somehow he had always managed to escape the king's special notice. Even his accomplishments were not enough; they were what a demon prince were expected to do, and they alone did not earn him the king's praise. Even though he had surpassed his brothers in many ways. Even though Zeldris had proven his worth tenfold.

But jealousy was for the weak. It was beneath him. So Zeldris waited, knowing that one day the king would take true notice of him. One day he would surpass Estarossa, and even Meliodas. And when that happened, his father would have a reckoning.

.o0o.

Gelda sat before her mirror, watching her servant braid her hair. She was dressed in her richest clothing to be presented to another suitor, one of hundreds who had come to Edinburgh to win her hand, or more accurately, her father's wealth. Many noblemen among the Vampire clan, the Demon clan, even the Fairy and Human clans had come, lured by the promise of riches beyond their dreams. Gelda's father liked for her to be presented in her finest as well, her beauty sure to seal away any doubts and strengthen any wavering resolves once the challengers came face-to-face with Izraf.

The price for her hand was a simple one: defeat the Vampire King in combat. But little did they know that Izraf could not be beaten. His strength was greater than any other's, and his magical ability made sure that his opponents had no chance of winning. It was a way to pass the time, Gelda was sure; a way to humiliate the other clans. They thought that the Vampires were weak, because they fed on the blood of others, and were a much smaller in numbers.

A servant hurried in and informed the princess that it was time, and Gelda stood with a huff. She hated the way her father insisted on her watching his ridiculous displays. He paraded her out as the prize in this doomed contest, and she despised every minute of it. She walked with confidence down the hallways, her ladies following, and when she entered the main hall the other royalty bowed. Gelda only nodded to acknowledge them before striding forward to the chair to the right of her father's.

Her seat was in the front so she could watch the fight as it happened, which Gelda hated too. Not that the contests themselves disturbed her; truthfully, Gelda was conflicted each time. She wanted to leave Edinburgh terribly, to escape her father and the grovelling and gossiping of the court. Many of the suitors were handsome, or rich, or had impressive titles. Some were even incredibly powerful. But none of them saw her as anything more than a prize. And she did not see them as anything more than beneath her. Not a single one had caught her eye, had made her actually want him to win and take her as his own. None of them were handsome enough or rich enough or powerful enough to marry the princess of vampires. As far as Gelda was concerned, they deserved their demise for even daring to come for her.

Being the only child of the king, she had the right of sitting next to him in the place of honor. It is also why she suspected he went through with all of this ridiculousness. Izraf did not want Gelda to marry and leave his kingdom. Gelda knew this, but she did not believe it was because of any sense of familial love. Instead, it was one more way Izraf could exert his control in his small kingdom. Tying his wealth and his power to his daughter made them more enviable. She shuddered to think of what he would do if anyone actually managed to best him.

Sitting in her chair, she looked around the room in boredom. The same Vampires were there as always, gossiping and plotting and scheming to advance their own positions. Gelda found it all very tiresome. They were all concerned about power. But power over what? This tiny kingdom? What a joke.

Gelda sighed as she leaned back in her chair, waving away the servants that approached. She ignored everyone that tried to come over to speak to her, watching the room boredly until the king arrived. Hopefully this contest would not prove too long, so she could escape to the solitude that was her only relief from this tiresome life.

She stood with everyone else as he entered, bowing low as she had been taught since her youth as he took his place on the throne. Then she stood with her eyes down, waiting for him to acknowledge her. "Gelda!" he said, his voice booming through the room. "It seems as though another lover has come for your hand. You must be incredibly excited."

"I live only to serve you, Father," she replied evenly, wishing she could say what she truly thought: _Anything to finally leave this place._

Izraf guffawed, the others in the court laughing along with him. "Look at my beautiful daughter," he announced, and the others nodded and murmured their assent. "So obedient, so loyal. Well don't worry, my dear. I know that leaving my side would break your heart, so I won't make it too easy on him."

Gelda nodded, her stomach twisted in disgust, and thankfully took her seat. She could feel the eyes of the room on her, and it made her want to scream at all of them. _Cowards_ , she thought. But of course they all were; who would dare go against the king? Izraf was the most powerful Vampire by far. He could destroy any of them, Gelda included, if he so wished. He was to be obeyed without question, and even Gelda had never attempted to defy him. So she swallowed her biting answers and focused her attention on concentrating straight ahead.

"Bring him in!" Izraf shouted. Gelda jumped in her seat as the doors were flung open, and she looked with disinterest at the figure that strode confidently into the room. He was a demon, the tell-tale mark appearing over his brow, under black hair that hung to the side. He looked almost disgusted as his eyes swept the room, and as he approached he seemed to sneer at the figures that stood around, pointing and talking together. She watched him with some amusement as he approached, and then his eyes landed on her.

Gelda had never felt so exposed before, and she swallowed thickly as she gazed back. He seemed to be able to read her mind, as if he could see all of her secrets, and Gelda found that she could not tear her eyes from his. Her heart beat began to pick up its pace. He was handsome, certainly, and dressed in fine clothing, with an ornate hilt on his sword. Then suddenly she felt his power, sensing the incredibly high level that she had not detected until this moment. As she slipped further and deeper into his stare, Gelda thought, for the first time, that he could be worthy enough for her.

For a moment, she pictured this demon defeating her father. She saw Izraf lying on the floor, bruised and bloodied, and this demon taking her from Edinburgh, back to wherever his realm was. She imagined herself being in the hands of such an overwhelming power, and her breath caught by the sheer magnitude of what that would mean. It was a thrilling idea, seeing a suitor that could possibly accomplish this; but she was also terrified suddenly of leaving with this man who was smirking at her now. Unlike the others, he did not seem to be affected by the lavishness of the court, or desirous of their wealth, having given the room a rather unimpressed glance as he had entered. His eyes held no lust as he looked at her.

"Demon," Izraf said with a laugh. "You have made a grave mistake coming here. All who want my daughter must face me first."

The demon pulled his eyes from hers and looked condescendingly at the king. "Let's get this over with then."

A shocked silence filled the hall, and then Izraf shot out a hand. An explosion erupted in the center of the hall, exactly where the demon had once stood, and Gelda jolted up in her chair. There was nothing to be seen but a swirling cloud of dirt that quickly expanded with a flash across the room. The others in the hall began to scream and shout, but Gelda remained silent. She could hear her father laughing beside her, and she looked at him irritably. How could he not sense the power that still remains? Was his ego that great that he assumed such a simple attack would take out such a creature?

The other Vampires were coughing and scrambling away, but Izraf continued laughing. "Look at you all scurry! How can you possibly think you are in danger of anything but me? You are all—"

The king stopped his blustering as his mouth widened in shock. The demon remained exactly where he stood, unmoving as the cloud of dust and debris dissipated around him. His shoulders were squared, his chin down, and he looked up at Izraf with a dark glare. "Is that a way to treat the envoy of the Demon King, your master?"

Gelda's hand flew to her mouth. He was not only a demon, but a messenger from the king himself? Her anxiety twisted viciously inside her stomach. The thought of being claimed by him, of leaving with him, filled her with dread. She looked wildly at her father, who also seemed taken aback by his response. Then his eyes hardened and Izraf rose from his chair. "You may be the Demon King's representative," he said threateningly, "but I am king here. Prepare for your fate."

Izraf walked down the steps, and Gelda was amazed that this demon did not even draw his sword. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the other Vampires move to the far sides of the room, some even slipping out unnoticed through the doorways around the room. She gripped the arms of her chair and whispered, "Father!"

"Your doubt in me is disappointing," Izraf growled at her over his shoulder. "Do you not think I can do away with one demon?" He reached the end of the steps, held up his hands, and shouted, " _Impurity_."

A massive ball of darkness swirled out of Izraf's arms and enveloped the now mostly empty hall, and Gelda thought she saw the demon wince as it reached him. "Be consumed by the darkness!" Izraf commanded. "Your powers are nothing to the king of Vampires!"

"Enough of this nonsense," came the demon's voice from inside the nothingness. Then it was gone, disappearing in a blink, and Izraf stumbled backwards as he moved. Gelda could barely see his hand move to unsheath his sword, the demon moved so quickly, and the next thing she knew, her father was on his back at the bottom of the steps. The demon held his blade to his neck, his expression unchanged.

It was the most remarkable moment of Gelda's life, and she could barely breathe as the demon, who was only half of the king's size, said to him, "You have been bested. Now concede to me."

There was a heavy silence. Gelda could only hear the pounding of her own heartbeat as she looked down at the unbelievable sight of her father defeated. "Y-yes," Izraf finally stuttered as the demon growled, his hands held in a defensive position. But instead of releasing him, the demon pressed his blade forward. Blood spilled from his neck where the blade had pierced his skin, and the demon continued, "I will take the girl now. You will send her dowry to the realm of the Demon King. If it is not received in seven days, the girl will die."

Gelda could feel the color drain from her cheeks. He turned to her, tilting his head as the command to follow, but she felt frozen to her chair. Her eyes went back and forth from him to her father, cowering on the ground, and she felt her limbs trembling. This was the moment she had been waiting for, for hundreds of years. She had watched hundreds of suitors fall to her father's magic, and she had only dreamed that one would finally take her from this suffocating place. And now that this was actually happening…

The fear of this demon overwhelmed her.

"Now," he said, finally, and withdrew the blade from her father's neck. Izraf reached up a hand to staunch the wound, and Gelda found herself slowly rising to stand on shaking legs. Slowly she descended the steps, not daring to glance at her father, and the demon turned and strode back the way he came. Gelda followed behind, her eyes wide and on the ground in front of her, the silence around her thick as everyone stared. She walked out of the throne room, then through the doors of the castle, for the first time free from her father's command. But instead of the elation she had always thought she would feel, she was filled only with dread.


	2. From One to the Other

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who has given this story a chance.

* * *

 **Chapter Two: From One to the Other**

Gelda followed the demon down the wide path that led from the castle. She had to move quickly to keep up with him, and held the skirt of her dress tightly in her hands when the path became steep. She had no idea where they were going, no idea where he was taking her, and Gelda looked continually over her shoulder, half expecting her father and the Vampires to storm out of the castle behind them.

They were nearing the line of trees that started the forest beyond Edinburgh when Gelda drew up short. "Stop!" she called, hating that it came out as a strangled cry. She had never been this far out of the castle before, and the combination of watching her father be defeated in a fight and her uneasiness of the demon she was now bound to had set her nerves to the absolute edge.

"What?" he snarled back at her, turning on her suddenly, and Gelda felt herself shrink backwards a few steps.

Her chest heaved as she steadied her courage. "Where are you taking me?" she asked slowly.

Zeldris looked at her with such contempt she felt the urge to hide. "I'm a servant of the Demon King. Where do you think we are headed?" She bristled from his tone, but decided to ignore it for the time being. That is, until he turned away and said, "You really are stupid, princess." His eyes narrowed on her even as hers widened in shock.

The dread and anxiety inside of her had boiled over into a seething fury at his insult. Suddenly she didn't care how powerful this creature was, or the fact that he won her hand. She was now determined to make him understand his place. "How _dare_ you," she said viciously. "You will not speak to me this way. I don't care what just happened, I'll be damned before I go with someone like you—"

"Do you think you have some sort of choice?" he interrupted. He took a step closer to her, his eyes locking with hers. Gelda felt once again caught by his gaze, unable to do anything but wait for his next word. Zeldris dragged his eyes down her form, from her wide eyes to her slender neck, over the dress that hugged her curves, to the ornate slippers on her feet. She felt her skin flushed under his attentions, wondering what he was thinking as he stared at her. Gelda pictured her father again, laying on the ground with the demon blade slicing his neck, and felt fear begin to creep back up her spine.

Then his eyes slid back up to her face, and Gelda felt at once embarrassed and exposed and insulted. He looked at her strangely for a moment before a sly smile crept across his face. "What's wrong, princess?" he mocked, stepping towards her slowly. "Are you scared?"

Unwilling to give anything away, Gelda forced herself to relax her shoulders and smooth a composed look on her face. "No," she said, keeping her voice even.

The smile remained frozen on his mouth, but the look in Zeldris' eyes went cold. With only a few strides he closed the gap between them, and he roughly reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her body against his viciously. His body was hard against her, both arms wrapping around her easily, and Gelda's breath caught in surprise. Her hands flew to his shoulders and she pushed, hard, but could not budge herself from his grip. "Let go of me!" she said sharply.

"I told you," he said with a bit of a snarl. One hand moved down her back to grip her just shy of where her hips flared, making her gasp at his aggressive touch. "I'm taking you to the demon realm."

There was a sudden rush of wind, and Gelda realized that he was using Teleportation magic. She couldn't help the shout of alarm as she felt her body tremble, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, suddenly afraid of being dropped or left behind. A feeling of terrible cold washed over her, like a douse of ice water, and a black, swirling darkness enveloped them. Instinctively she pressed her face into his chest.

Then, it was suddenly gone. The air dropped, the light returned, and with a shuddering gasp, Gelda looked up… and was astonished to find they were still just outside of Edinburgh. "What… what was that?" she choked.

Zeldris' grip on her turned painful, and she yelped as she tried to push him away. He looked over her shoulder with a menacing stare that made her pause. "I should have killed that fool of a king," he growled, his voice even despite the violence behind his words.

Surprisingly, Gelda felt stung at his words. If he dared to speak this way about Izraf, how much contempt did he hold for her? "What does my father have to do with this?" she bit out sharply. She waited for an answer, but when he continued staring into the distance, she shot out, "Are we just going to stand here all day?"

Those eyes returned to her, and Gelda could not help the shiver that breezed down her spine. "No, princess," he said evenly. "We're walking."

"Walking?!" she cried as he gripped her by the arm and pulled her with him as he turned and strode through the trees. Without even a thought she fought against him, trying to wrench herself out of his grip. "Walking to what? Where?" They continued over several more yards before she finally managed to pull him back, forcing him to turn and look at her. "I'm not walking another step until you tell me what we are doing!"

"We're going to the demon realm," Zeldris ground out, giving her a bit of a shove. "The only way to get there is to use Teleportation. There are places in Britannia that serve as gateways. Only a demon's power can open the gate." He took in a long, deep breath before continuing, "That fight with your cursed vampire king has drained my magic to the point where I cannot open it. So, we need to go to the closest portal."

Gelda stepped backwards, shaking her head. "No, no, _no_. I'm not going all that way. If you can't—"

"You say that as if you have a _choice_ , princess," the demon barked. "You belong to the Demon King now. I'm taking you to him."

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her father, the fight, leaving Edinburgh behind was all pushed to the side as terror seized her again. And this time, it filled her so completely that she felt lightheaded. "The Demon King?" she breathed, her hand flying to her chest. "You're taking me… to the Demon King?"

Zeldris snorted. "What did you think I was doing here?" He raised his brows slightly before continuing, "Did you think—did you think that _I_ was the one who wanted you?"

But Gelda was no longer listening. "The Demon King," she whispered to herself. This was real, this was happening, and her heart seized. The stories about him were terrifying, how he could create demons with the snap of his hand, slaughter armies with his sword. He commanded the most fearsome race of beings in Britannia, and was the only person alive that her father feared. The hand on her chest clenched her dress tightly as she tried to keep herself from crying out.

He reached for her again, but Gelda jerked away from him. Suddenly she was struck with the realization that nothing was going to change for her, after all. She was leaving her position as the princess of the vampires behind, only to become the queen of the demons. She was going from one life of solitude and obedience to another. One master to another. One terror to the next. And Gelda decided, then and there, she would not be a slave any longer.

"I won't go with you!" she shrieked, and then she turned and ran crashing into the forest. She heard the demon shout at her to stop, but she went as fast as she could, calling on her vampire powers to aid her escape. Vampires were known for their speed and their stealth, and Gelda figured she would have no trouble evading the demon, particularly if his power had depleted to the point where he could not even use Teleportation on his own.

Her lungs screamed and her legs ached, but Gelda ran with all her strength, not caring or knowing what direction she headed, or where she was going. She yelped as her dress caught on a branch, but she quickly tugged it away and was moving again, gliding through the trees.

Suddenly there was a shadow covering her, and she stumbled. Startled, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see the demon's face looming over hers. Then she was crashing to the ground, her legs and arms pinned by a solid form that bent over her heaving and shaking body with an infuriating indifference. "Let go of me!" she shouted, pulling in vain against his tight grip on her wrists.

Gelda tried to kick at him, but he simply moved his knees to dig into her thighs, keeping her restrained. "You can't run from me, princess," he warned.

"I thought you said you didn't have any powers!" Gelda cried out.

Zeldris scowled back at her. "I said I was drained. And my magic has nothing to do with my strength." In order to prove his point, he squeezed her wrists, almost painfully, and Gelda yelped more in humiliation than in discomfort. "Now, try that again, and I'll break one of your legs. Then you can limp the rest of the way for all I care."

Gelda knew this was more than just a threat. She should be scared of him, and careful of her words. But having him on top of her like this, having caught her so damn easily, was absolutely infuriating. Never had she been so mortified, pressed into the ground like a common girl being used by some idiot. But really, was she any better? She was being passed from one king to another, her life to be spent as nothing more than a trophy for powerful men.

She was sure she looked a mess, her hair wild and her dress dirty and her cheeks flushed with exertion. He, however, looked absolutely calm, and that angered her even more. She was of royal blood, and she refused to allow someone else to make her decisions any longer. "Get. Off. Of me," she bit out.

His eyes narrowed a bit as his brow drew downwards, and mercifully he was climbing off of her a moment later. As soon as the weight had moved, Gelda scrambled up and tried to run again; but this time, she heard Zeldris say something behind her, and she barely made it a few feet before she felt herself yanked backwards. She whirled around to fight him off again, but to her shock he was still kneeling on the ground where she had left him.

Again Gelda tried to run, and again she was only able to go several steps. She spun back at the demon and yelled, "What have you done to me?"

"Just a little spell," he said, and to her absolute mortification, he laughed. "I would have done it sooner had I known it would prove so entertaining."

"Release it!" she spat at him. She edged backwards, but again, at a certain point she felt the inevitable tug as she was pulled back towards him.

Zeldris crossed his arms. "When you learn to behave, then perhaps I will." Her cheeks flared in anger at how he dared to chastise her, but before she could retort he went on, "You can't go more than five feet from me now. So no more trying to run off, understand?"

"You can't do this!" she shouted, but he was already turning away, ignoring her. He started walking again, and after he took several steps, Gelda felt the pulling once more. "Better keep up," he called back to her. "Five feet, remember."

.o0o.

They walked the rest of the night in silence. It had been nearly sundown when Zeldris had taken Gelda from the castle, so they used the long hours of the night to pick their way through the forest. Neither said a word, and Zeldris was glad for it.

Dealing with this princess was more trouble than handling Izraf. He had gone into the vampire kingdom with little doubt that he could best the king. He knew his power level was greater than Izraf's; even if it wasn't, defeat was not an option for Zeldris, particularly against an old vampire. Furthermore, the fool had only darkness to use as his power. The idea made Zeldris laugh to himself in derision. Darkness, against a demon prince. It was a joke.

He had had little worry he could defeat the king, and was glad to be finally on his way out of Edinburgh with the princess. She had actually surprised him. She was as beautiful and graceful as he had expected of the daughter of the king, but there was something else about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on when she had met his eyes in the great hall. If this had been another circumstance, then he would have certainly been tempted by her. It was a rare thing for a female to catch his eye; Zeldris was too focused on his position, on proving himself and advancing himself as a soldier. But this woman, with her soft features and sensuous curves, would have made it easy for him to forget all of that, at least for a while.

Her stunt of trying to run off had surprised him too. It was a stupid thing to do, but he had to admit he admired the fact that she tried something. If he had not been so aggravated by his inability to use Teleportation to get back to his own realm, then he would have even enjoyed the little chase.

Zeldris was lost in his thoughts, as he imagined pinning her to the ground underneath him again, when the princess finally broke the silence. "Demon," she said. "When are we stopping?"

He huffed and looked at her over his shoulder. "My name is Zeldris," he answered in annoyance.

"Fine, _Zeldris_ , when are we stopping?" asked the vampire haughtily.

"Why would we stop?"

Gelda reached out and yanked on his elbow, and against his better judgement, he paused. "It's nearly morning. I need to find somewhere to rest."

Zeldris turned and gave her a scornful look. "You'll have plenty of time to rest when we are in the demon realm. No stopping."

"No!" she cried. His brows drew down as she continued, "I don't want to be out when the sun rises."

Folding his arms, he asked, "I never heard that vampires could not be out in the day."

"We can, but…" Gelda's voice trailed off as she looked around a bit nervously. "We get much weaker, and I won't be able to defend myself, if I need to."

"Huh," he laughed, his tone filled with derision. "That's quite interesting, princess. But you won't need to defend yourself against anything while I'm here. You're quite safe." Zeldris started to walk again, and snapped around, annoyed when he felt her grab his elbow. "Let go of me," he growled at her without turning around.

"You can't do this," she hissed viciously at him, her fingers clenching into his arm instead of letting go. Her touch seemed to sear into his skin, and he raised his eyes to meet her glare. "I am a _royal_ vampire, and you—"

"I don't give a damn what you are," Zeldris answered. He yanked his elbow away from her and grabbed her by the arm. He gave her a shove, causing her to stumble a moment as he snapped, "Now walk."

Gelda did not try to speak to him again, walking in front of him this time, her arms crossed and her head raised high. He could tell that she was fuming, and even though his own irritation was still smoldering at this entire situation, he couldn't help but be amused by hers. Once in a while he would tell her to bear left, or turn north, and she would obey him. Yet something in the way she held her shoulders and the way she strode forward with confidence told him that this was not over.

An hour went by, then another, then another. The sun was peeking over the horizon, climbing steadily and warming them through the trees. Zeldris watched her move, keeping his senses heightened as he scanned for any dangers. The forest was surprisingly quiet, however, and as time went on he allowed his thoughts to return to the princess walking in front of him. He could not help the way his eyes dragged over her tresses, weaved into an intricate braid against the back of her head with several strands hanging from their tussle earlier; the pale skin of her gently sloping neck; her shoulders back and tight with the indignation he could still feel simmering from her; and then down, her shoulder blades making soft arches in her expensive dress, her tiny waist tightly cinched, the fabric clinging to the beautiful way her hips flared out a bit. Zeldris smiled a bit, deciding to allow himself this bit of pleasure as they walked.

He was beginning to wonder what she was wearing underneath when her voice snapped him out of his roaming imagination. "Do you really think," Gelda spat, "that my father will allow this ridiculousness to continue?" She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and turned her face smirked at him. "Even now, there is probably an army of vampires following us, ready to take me back from you."

"Is that what you want, princess?" he asked. His voice was sharp, annoyed with himself for allowing her body to distract him. "You want to return to your father?"

Gelda bristled at his dismissive tone. "No! I don't want to go back there."

Zeldris moved quickly until he was directly over her shoulder. "Then what do you want?"

Gelda paused front of him, causing him to nearly knock into her. She hesitated for a moment, her back barely an inch from his chest, gazing at her smooth skin and breathing her in. Aggravation flared inside him again, and he was about to give her a push when she turned and placed a hand on his arm. He glanced down in surprise at her hand while she said, with great earnest, "I want you to let me go. I will go somewhere far from here, and you can return to the demon realm, and neither of us will be found."

The demon looked at her for a long moment, his eyes tracing from her hair to her neck, searching her expression. It was completely closed off to him, so he said coldly, "I'm very sorry, princess. I have a duty to fulfill."

He pushed past her, continuing down their path, and Gelda gaped at him. Then a sudden fury seemed to swell inside her and she screamed, "You—you dare to speak to me about duty!" Zeldris halted with her words, but did not turn around. "What could you know about duty? A lowborn like you?" Gelda clenched her fists and stalked towards him. "A common soldier such as you could never understand what it truly means."

Zeldris whirled around, drawing up to her until they were face-to-face. "And you understand?" he scoffed. "A pampered, spoiled princess like you?"

Gelda's eyes went wide with shock. "You have no idea," she bit out, and Zeldris actually moved back a bit at her tone. "My entire life has been nothing but service to a king and father who could not spare me even a glance. All he wanted from me was my obedience." Zeldris' brows drew down, and she took a deep breath. "So until you know what that is like, do not dare to say the word 'duty' to me again."

They stared at one another for a long moment. Zeldris' jaw clenched and relaxed, his eyes focused on hers; and then he turned away. "Come on," he said coldly, and Gelda followed, once again returning to silence.


	3. A Heart's Desire

**Chapter Three: A Heart's Desire**

Duty. The word echoed through Zeldris' head over and over. It was mid-afternoon, hours from when she had practically spat it at him, but the sharp twinge it had caused under his skin still felt fresh. Somehow the princess had found a way to needle him, and it made him angry. There was no way he was going to let her get under his skin any more than she already had. But that accusation had stung more than he cared to admit.

They had reached the end of the thickest part of the woods, having travelled miles through the night and morning. The forest began to thin out, and he could see on the horizon that the woods were ending, and beyond that farmland, which meant that humans were nearby. That could prove to be trouble for them, although Zeldris had little worry. He could feel his powers returning to him slowly, but steadily. If he could sleep for a while, then he would have been at full strength in almost no time; however, Zeldris was unwilling to stop. He did not trust that they would not be attacked, and he knew that Gelda was in no position to defend them. Besides, he mostly just wanted to get back to the demon realm and be rid of the princess once and for all.

"Demon," she said behind him. He ignored her and kept walking. "Demon," she said again, her voice strained, but again he ignored her.

"Zeldris!" The anxious pitch made him pause, and he glanced over his shoulder coldly. "What is it?" he bit out.

"I… I need to stop. Please." Gelda blew out a breath, and he turned to look at her. The princess was trembling slightly, her arms wrapped tightly arms round her. He noticed she looked even paler than usual, if that was possible, and her lips were drawn thin and tight. "I need to eat. And I need rest. Please, I… I can't keep going like this."

Gelda looked at him cautiously, and he growled in annoyance. Stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, even though the idea of a brief rest was appealing. "What do you eat?" he snapped at her.

He was surprised to see a slight blush crawl up her neck. "I need a human," she murmured.

"Fine," Zeldris answered. He huffed and crossed his arms, eyeing her coldly. "There should be humans nearby. You can go and get what you need and—"

"I don't know how," she said quietly, fidgeting with her hands.

"What do you mean, you don't know how?" he snarled. "Don't know how to what? Kill a human? I thought you ate them?"

Gelda drew a deep breath. "We don't eat them, we drink from them. And I've never… well, I've never had to capture one of my own. The other vampires would bring me—"

"Tell me, princess, have you ever done anything at all on your own?" Zeldris stalked forward, beyond furious. This princess was growing more irritating by the minute. He aimed for the edge of the trees as the spell pulled Gelda sharply forward. "Let's go. I suppose I'm hunting human trash for you now too."

To his satisfaction he saw the blush go deeper, and he was pleased with himself for embarrassing her. He half expected her to start an argument, but Gelda only hurried behind him until they met a dirt path. After they walked a few minutes more he found his suspicions were correct: there was a small cottage up ahead, perched against a small rise, built into the side of the tiny hill. It was a simple home, made of wood and stone, with a thatched, moss-covered roof.

Without a word Zeldris led her along the cover of the trees. At first there were no signs of life in the little house; but then after a bit of observation, the door opened and a young woman stepped out. She looked barely old enough to be much out of childhood, but was heavy with pregnancy. She stood in the doorway of the little home, blinking and stretching her back in the sun, before walking a few yards to a little garden on the side of the house. Carefully she crouched down, picking herbs from the plants that grew in all different sizes from the ground.

"Will that do?" Zeldris murmured, and beside him, Gelda nodded. "Do I have to kill her, or do you want her alive?"

"I…" He peered at her from the corner of his eye and said, "What is it?"

"I'll do it," she said suddenly, stepping forward. She only got a few steps before she hit the barrier, and Gelda huffed in annoyance. "Will you release this? I have to get closer."

Zeldris folded his arms, wondering what she was planning. "I thought you said you didn't know how to kill someone."

Gelda looked at him sharply. "I know what to do," she answered, her tone offended. But there was a glint of a threat in her eyes, and determination, which gave Zeldris pause.

He peered at her curiously. "I'll follow, just to be sure. Wouldn't want Your Highness running off again."

She bristled and turned away from him, walking just behind the trees as she approached the house. Zeldris had to admit he was curious about what she was about to do, and surrounded himself with a cloud of darkness to follow. To a casual observer he would appear as nothing more than a long shadow, one that would disappear if the viewer took a closer look. He stayed behind her, watching with a mixture of amusement and interest.

Gelda slowed her pace, appearing unhurried, as if she was on a leisurely walk to town. When she finally stepped out between the trees, her feet silent in the mossy grass, the girl at first took no notice. It wasn't until the princess was nearly on top of her that the girl must have sensed someone, and she whirled around.

"Who are you?" she asked, and then took in Gelda's appearance. Despite being a bit dirty and disheveled from their travelling, it was obvious from her clothing and her poise that Gelda was someone of importance. "I'm sorry, my lady, I didn't… Do you need help?"

The young woman took a tentative step forward. "Greetings," Gelda said softly.

Zeldris started at the change in her voice. It was absolutely beautiful, smooth and rich and filled with care. He wondered briefly what his name would sound like with that voice, and suddenly wanted to hear her say it again, when Gelda continued, "I am here to give you a present."

"A present?" The girl sounded unconvinced, but excited, and she briefly looked around. "Are you alone, my lady?"

"It's a present for you, dearest," answered Gelda, gently. "Would you like a present?"

The girl nodded eagerly, her suspicions gone. "Oh yes, thank you! May I—"

"If you want your present," Gelda continued, "you must give me one first."

Zeldris was mesmerized. He could feel his heart beat a bit faster, emotion suddenly churning inside of him. He looked down to see his hands were balled into tight fists, and he was confounded to realize that _he_ wanted what she offered. _He was jealous._

Looking back up, he wondered what Gelda was doing, and whether or not he should step out and snatch Gelda away from the girl. But then, he shook himself, and the startling rush of sanity made his desire turn to irritation. She may be enchanting this human, but there was no way he would let her invade his mind. But he could not take his eyes from her, questions swirling in his mind about the princess. How did he miss this ability of hers? He deliberately unclenched his fists as he watched her, vowing not to underestimate her again.

Again the girl nodded, but this time, he observed, it was much slower, as the girl swayed on her feet; her eyes became unfocused, her mouth opened slightly. But her gaze never left Gelda's face as the vampire approached her slowly, like a cat creeping up on a mouse. "I… I will give you…" The girl's voice faded away, and Gelda smiled.

Once more Zeldris felt an unfamiliar surge inside of him. Hotly he pushed away the need to see Gelda turn that smile towards him. It was just an enchantment, and he was angry with himself for allowing it to have any effect on him. The son of the Demon King falling prey to the suggestions of a useless vampire? It was ludicrous.

"Reach out your hand, dearest," she whispered. The girl obediently lifted her arm, and Zeldris watched, barely breathing, as Gelda took her hand in her own. "Thank you, dearest."

.o0o.

Hours later, the sun began to set. Gelda watched silently as Zeldris ate, using his fingers to pick apart the small fawn he had captured. He had built a small fire to roast the meat, and the demon pointedly ignored her as he worked on his meal. She observed that Zeldris ate as he did everything else: quickly, efficiently, without thought of enjoyment or pause. It was fascinating to watch. The vampires did everything in excess, so this was the first simple meal she had ever witnessed.

"You're staring at me," he said, startling her. It was the first words he had spoken since she had finished with the girl at the cottage. The girl had been more than she had expected, and the rush of life from tasting her blood had caused Gelda to swoon a bit. She had been so hungry she had taken greedily, and it proved too much; by the time the girl was well dead, Gelda was nearly intoxicated from the taste of her. The next thing she knew, Zeldris was sweeping her up and carrying her away, and she could barely protest in her woozy state.

When she woke, the sun was low in the sky, and he was cleaning the fawn. She had tried to ask him what had happened, but he did not say a word, only giving her a disgusted look that had made all of her questions die in her throat. Although what happened _after_ she had used her magic on the girl was unclear in her mind, Gelda remembered well how Zeldris had treated her _beforehand_. His derision had stung, and it only stoked her agitation towards him. How did he dare to treat her this way? If he really was the messenger of the king, he must be familiar with politics, and the way things worked in court. Yet, even though she was to marry his king, he acted as if she was an errant child he had been sent to fetch.

"So you are speaking to me now?" Gelda responded. She folded her arms, trying to look unaffected by his aversion to her.

Zeldris snorted, not even bothering to meet her gaze. The dismissal was clear, and Gelda heaved a sigh. "You do realize," she continued, "that when we get to our destination, I will become your queen. It won't do you well to make an enemy of me."

That got his attention, just as she had intended. His eyes snapped up at her, instantly narrowing at the firm look on her face. But to her frustration, his mouth twisted into a cold smile. "I'll take my chances, princess," he answered with a mocking tone.

Zeldris went back to his meal, causing a flash of anger to sear under her skin. Gelda hated to be ignored, to be dismissed out of turn. Her father always disregarded her, unless he was flaunting her in front of someone else; it made her feel paltry and insignificant. But that was her father. This was just a soldier acting on orders, and Gelda felt the insult deep within her.

Anger would not work on the demon, so she decided to change tactics. "Having the queen as an ally, however," she said smoothly, "that would prove very advantageous to a soldier such as yourself."

Again, Zeldris paused in his eating, and Gelda smiled, pleased. When he looked up at her, however, the contempt was still there. "What do you want?"

"What I want?" she said lamely at the unexpected question, swallowing as she tried to think. "Are you offering—"

"I'm offering nothing," he answered coldly. "I'm just curious as to what you are hoping to accomplish with these pathetic threats."

"These aren't—I'm not—" sputtered Gelda, completely taken aback.

"Then tell me," he growled. "What is it you want?"

Her stomach twisted with embarrassment and anger. Every time she spoke to Zeldris, he managed to insult and infuriate her. But what _was_ she trying to do? Did she really want his attention that badly? Why did she even care? She was a princess, about to become the queen of the most powerful realm in Britannia. It should not matter what one worthless demon thought about her.

Besides, Zeldris was not going to let her go, that much was clear. Gelda was going to the Demon King. The knowledge that there was nothing at all she could do about this made her want to lash out at him. But as they stared at one another, Gelda suddenly felt just as pathetic and unimportant as he saw her to be.

"I just want my freedom," she finally answered.

Gelda braced herself, preparing for another sarcastic comment, or even to be on the receiving end of his wrath and frustration. But to her surprise, he just stared at her a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, "You said yourself, you're a royal vampire. I would think you would have learned by now that you don't have any more freedom than anyone else."

Gelda gaped at him. It was impossible to predict what he would say or do, and she felt herself blush a bit by how close he had hit home with his words. Again, she found herself wondering who this demon was that the king had sent after her. How would someone like _him_ manage to get so close to the king, the way he spoke and acted? "Tell me," she asked, "are all demons as flippant as you with their superiors?"

To her shock, Zeldris laughed. It was the first time she had heard the sound, and a flash of heat went up her spine. "Tell me first," he answered, "are all vampires as devious as you?"

"Devious?" Gelda frowned in confusion. "How have I been devious?"

Zeldris looked over at her out of the corner of his eye. "That ability of yours. I would have never guessed you had such a power, especially after pretending you did not know how to catch a human."

"I didn't know," she answered, trying to sound insulted, but instead sounding more like she was trying to convince him. "But why would I tell you anything about me? It would only be more fodder for you to mock me."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and for some reason she was not sure of, Gelda was pleased. "Well, don't get any ideas," he bit back, his tone returning to the rude one he always used. "I won't succumb as easily as that poor girl did."

"I know," she answered haughtily. "If I had thought it would, I would have done it by now."

Again he chuckled, and again Gelda felt a shiver run through her. "What is it you do exactly?" he asked, catching her off guard. Her face must have registered her surprise because he continued, "Call it curiosity on my part."

Gelda cleared her throat. "I can see a heart's desire. Not very useful on the battlefield, I'm afraid." She gave a cold laugh. "Didn't you ever hear my title? I am Gelda of the Thousand Temptations. I can see what you want more than anything, and then use that to to get what _I_ want."

There was a moment of silence before Zeldris asked, "How does it work?"

Gelda gave a small shrug. "It's easier to do the closer I am. The spirit must be weak in order to make suggestions." Her eyes flickered to him as the corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. "I'm sure a fierce warrior such as yourself would be much too strong to feel the effects of my power."

She expected him to tease her back, but again he surprised her by searching her face for a long moment. "Why don't you try it then?" he asked in a low tone. "You can't think _that_ well of me."

Her breathing caught as they stared at one another. Was he really suggesting this? Then Gelda had another thought: what if it _did_ work? What if she could convince him to remove the spell and let her go? The idea made her heart beat a bit faster, so she stood and walked over to where Zeldris sat on the ground.

He watched her closely, his face unreadable. Gelda knelt next to him, leaning forward until she was barely an inch from touching him. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Gelda pressed her mind forward, finding just what she had suspected. Some humans were transparent, and some had thin barriers she could slip through; but trying to push into Zeldris' mind was like meeting a wall of stone.

"Zeldris," she whispered, breathing out, trying to slide over the wall, or under, or around, anything to find a small crack to press inside.

"Hmm?" he answered. Gelda noted his breathing slowed to match hers. Could this be working? Tentatively she raised one hand, trailing a finger down the side of his face, and his eyes closed. With a thudding heart, Gelda closed her own, trying to look inside his mind. But there was nothing there, just a cold and empty wall, shutting her out, and Gelda sighed.

Then she jolted as she felt his hands on her hips, and he yanked her forward. Their faces nearly touching, she felt his breath on the side of her face; and then, incredibly, an image formed. It was unclear, unfocused, but she could almost make it out. It was familiar, something she had seen before, but she could not figure out what exactly—

A harsh laugh snapped her away, and Gelda's eyes flew open to find his peering into her face. "You were right," he said, his voice like gravel. "It didn't work."

"I suppose not," she answered shakily, pushing his hands from her hips and moving away. Zeldris also stood, snuffing out the small fire with his boot and telling her that they needed to move again. They continued their walk once more, but this time, Gelda went over and over the image that she had seen when Zeldris had touched her. She had assumed she would see wealth, or a throne, or even a woman; instead, it was more abstract than that, and something, somehow, wholly familiar.


	4. Reaching Through The Dark

**Chapter Four: Reaching Through The Dark**

Gelda watched the demon as he dozed, propped up against a tree. To another observer, she was sure it would not have been as obvious. He was crouched with his head tilted forward, his hair covering part of his face, but his arms were tense, one perched on a knee. Zeldris appeared to be in deep concentration, and at first she had thought that was what it was; but then she noticed the way his breathing was slower, and deeper, the way his body did not even flinch when a breeze blew by or she shifted where she sat. She had been doing nothing but watch him for two days, and Gelda had learned quite a bit about the soldier who was taking her to her new home.

This was the second time that they had stopped since their journey began, as the princess had complained of fatigue again after moving for hours on end. The wild part of the forest had ended ages ago, and now they moved through hamlets and towns and farmland inhabited by humans. Even though the terrain was easier to travel across, it was increasingly difficult to remain hidden.

Zeldris still refused to stop and sleep, even though when they did pause hours ago Gelda had eagerly curled up on the ground and immediately dropped off herself. She had pressed him why, and he had given a vague excuse about needing to stay alert; however, she expected that he had so little power left, that he would not be able to maintain his hold on her while unconscious.

Gelda had tested her hypothesis when she first noticed him drifting asleep, and found that the barrier was not as strong as it had been. She felt the resistance, yes, but it felt more pliant than the brick wall, and her own body's reaction was more of a pressing than a yanking backwards. Thinking that she could break through, Gelda had tried to run; but the sudden surge of his own magic had snapped Zeldris out of his doze. He grabbed her easily, tossing her to the ground with a threat, refusing to speak to her when she argued back with him.

Carefully Gelda slid across the soft grass towards the demon. She did not dare to take off again, not until he was weaker, anyway; but now that she knew his power was growing thinner, she wanted to look inside his heart again. The vampire told herself that she was still hopeful she could find something to use to win her own freedom. However, the truth she would never admit was that she was curious.

The image she had seen before flashed in her mind, still as vague as ever. It was like looking at a picture through a dirty window, the dust caked on and making nothing more than light and color visible. She could not make out a shape or a face, but there was _something_ there. Gelda had to know what this callous and powerful demon wanted, even if it was nothing she could manipulate.

Slowly she inched closer. Zeldris did not stir, so after a brief pause she sidled up next to him. She spent several minutes watching his chest expand and contract until her own breathing matched his. Then her mind slid outwards, seeking his heart, and her own heartbeat slowed a bit to match his steady rhythm.

Typically Gelda could not take such time and care when using her powers, wanting to quickly subdue a frightened human to quell her hunger, or smooth over an unhappy visitor for the king. It was thrilling to her now to be able to move slowly, truly digging into the depths of her power for the first time in a long time. Once their breathing and heartbeats were synchronized, Gelda tilted forward silently until her hand was a hair's breadth away from his chest. Gently, gradually, she pressed her power forward. Her eyes slid closed as she imagined it slinking inside of him, drawing closer and closer to his heart.

When she reached the brick wall, she was not surprised. It had been a slim chance to find him unguarded even in his exhausted state, but Gelda was pleased that she had managed this far without his notice. There was a bit of a thrill to be able to look inside this person who had been so cold to her. His powers were easy enough to read, and she could sense the pride and arrogance inside of him, the need for control, his demanding nature… but his heart's desire remained securely, stubbornly locked away.

She waited several more minutes, carefully sliding along the wall, seeking any weakness that could be the key to peering inside. Nothing presented itself, so Gelda decided to try her persuasion. After checking to make sure he was still sleeping, the princess began to stroke his mind gently. She pressed her hand tentatively against his chest, wanting a firmer connection, and excitedly felt a bit of a spark when she did. Over and over she glided her own desire into him and against him.

 _Tell me what you want, Zeldris. Wouldn't you like to share it with me? I can give you anything…_

Her eyes closed. Since she could not move through the wall, she tried to wrap herself around it.

 _Give yourself to me. I want to give you your heart's desire…_

Her heart whispered to his, and her power began to envelop them both.

 _Give me your wish. I will give you anything, if you just ask…_

Gelda was suddenly cut off as two strong hands gripped her, pulling her sharply against the demon. The next moment his mouth crushed over hers, and Gelda yelped in surprise as he tilted his lips against her. His fingers dug into her body painfully before the vampire found herself flung backwards into the ground.

The sudden force of movement knocked the wind out of her, and as she gasped for breath his tongue pushed aggressively into her mouth. Gelda found her hands pinned between their bodies, her palms flattened against his chest. She tried to give a small cry, a command, _something_ to order him off of her, but what came out was a moan that he swallowed eagerly.

Zeldris slid his hands from her waist down her hips and around to grasp her backside. She gasped in surprise at the rough movement, wriggling a bit underneath him, but then his hands quickly skimmed lower, palming the backs of her legs. He curled his fingers to grip the inside of his thighs and yanked them apart. Her mind was spinning from the kiss, shivers of pleasure rippling through her as he sucked on her tongue and nipped at her lips. But when she felt his hips push forcefully against hers, Gelda froze. The hands on her thighs pulled them upwards, opening her body more to him, and he began to grind against her.

Gelda had never been handled in such a way, and it made her dizzy. There had been a few suitors on the aggressive side, who had tried to steal a kiss or grab her body possessively, but never had she been kissed so thoroughly, never had she felt a man pressing on top of her like this. She shuddered as his tongue dipped back into her mouth, and gave a squeal when he rocked against her again, a mixture of fear and excitement.

She realized suddenly her powers had flared upwards and out. The vampire squeezed her eyes shut and pulled back; then at once Zeldris stilled. His body still covered hers, his mouth still sealed against her own; then he reared up abruptly, looking down at her in anger. "What did you do?" he hissed sharply at her.

"N-nothing!" she stuttered in surprise. She gasped for breath as she pushed hard against his chest. "You threw yourself at me!"

Gelda forced herself to keep from shaking, looking back at him as if to dare him to argue. He narrowed his eyes, but to her relief he released the punishing hold he had on her body. Zeldris braced his hands on the ground on either side of her, pulling his body up but keeping her caged beneath him. "You're lying," he said. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" she insisted, blinking up at him.

She shivered as he glared down at her, his expression dangerous. It was if the tables had now turned, and the demon could look directly inside of _her_. Zeldris stared at her for a long moment, and then he said through gritted teeth, "If you ever try something like that again, you'll regret it. I don't care _who_ you are, or _what_ you think you are the queen of. Do you understand, _princess_?"

Gelda could only nod her response, trembling under the way his eyes seemed to look straight through her. Finally he leaned back and stood. "Get up, we're moving," he practically spat at her. He turned, not looking at her as he adjusted his sword around his waist. His eyes swept around, taking in the area.

Slowly the princess climbed to her feet, brushing away dirt from her dress. She watched as Zeldris looked up at the stars just beginning to peek out from the darkening sky. Whatever she had seen, whatever his desire was, she had not expected him to react that way. She had not expected him to react at _all_ , and the fact that she had had some effect on him was both frightening and thrilling. Gelda wished that she had been able to take another look, but now understood that tempting such a dangerous creature was more than she could handle. She placed a hand on her mouth, her fingers caressing over her swollen lips, a small shiver going down her spine as she remember how he had kissed her; but then she pushed the thought away. If she was going to escape him before they made it to the demon realm, she would have to determine another way.

.o0o.

Zeldris watched the princess in front of him closely. They had been walking for more than a day, and he estimated they were about halfway to the place where he could access the demon realm. He was glad that they were drawing closer, but their progress had actually slowed quite a bit in the previous hours. They were deep into the humans' country, and to complicate matters further, he could sense fairy magic on the horizon as well. So he kept them hidden during most of the day, hiding like mice where they could find cover.

It disgusted him to act this way, but there was no other option. If he went brazenly through Britannia he was sure to be challenged, and at his current power level he was not sure if he could get himself away and the girl too. He surmised he could take on one knight, maybe even two or three; but if they came upon a group of them, or even worse, a squadron of trained soldiers, then he was sure to be in trouble. Zeldris was confident in his abilities, could even be called arrogant by some; but he was not a fool, and would not take such a risk.

The brief nap the day before had helped somewhat, but his mind had not been able to completely settle as he struggled to keep his senses sharpened. And then _Gelda_. That wretched princess had tried to use her powers on him again, he was _sure_ of it. There was no other reason for him to have reacted the way he did. His mind had ben so busy pushing _outwards_ looking for a threat that he did not sense the one right in front of him in time.

Zeldris refused to speak to her as they walked. What had Gelda even been thinking? He knew that she did not learn anything from her little attempt to look inside his mind; if she had, she would have certainly said something or tried to use it against him. But it troubled him that she had even dared to look, and even moreso that he had lost control before he realized it. He remembered a dream, although specifics he could not recall. His senses had been sharp on the area around him, while at the same time, he had felt warmth against his chest, a soothing voice in his ear. It was like being underwater, and in his own mind he had moved sluggishly, reaching out to grasp something that was beyond his vision. When he had snapped out of his haze and found himself on top of the princess, he had been just as surprised as she.

Gelda had denied it but he _knew_ she had tried to search him again. He watched her walk, tightening the spell he had cast around her. All he cared about now was to keep moving, keep heading towards the demon realm. Deliver the girl to his father and never think about her again.

The evening was growing darker by the minute, making it easier for them to move. They had resumed their walking an hour prior, and he listened carefully to the quiet around him. He wanted to use all of his senses, but the vampire walking in front of him had proven that he needed to reserve some of his power to keep tabs on her as well.

Gelda paused, and he drew up behind her. Suddenly he felt a prick under his skin, just as she said, "There are humans nearby."

Zeldris nodded grimly. There was a group, just as he had feared, at least a half dozen closing in. If they continued their course they were certain to run into them; the choice now was to stop, or to fight.

The choice was made easier as he read their power levels: they were high enough to be Holy Knights. Even though they fluctuated greatly, together they were as strong as he in his weakened state. He gripped Gelda's arm and pulled her behind him, cutting a sharp left out of his direct path. She gave a sharp intake of breath as they moved. "Where are we going?" she hissed.

"Quiet." They moved quickly as Zeldris tried his best to look for a place to hide. There was a village not far, and he wondered if it would be best to head towards it. There would at least be buildings, and maybe one would be empty. But chances are the knights approaching came from there, so they'd be at an advantage to defend it. As he turned over his options, he suddenly realized the energies around him had changed.

Zeldris pulled up short, pushing Gelda behind him. The air around them was thick, but silent, and he realized they had anticipated his move. Suddenly a flash of magic came screaming through the twilight. He dodged it easily, pulling Gelda around him, and drew his own sword.

Smiling to himself, he felt the familiar burn across his forehead. Whoever these knights were, they may have more magical power than him at the moment, but there was no matching his strength. "I will allow that one," he called out, his voice booming in the silence. "If you value your lives, you will leave, now."

"What are you _doing_?" Gelda whispered fiercely, seething. "You can't fight them!"

"I could just leave you here to die," he snapped back at her, just as a voice returned from the darkness, "You are in _our_ territory, demon." The echoing sounds allowed him to gauge the distance of each knight, and he surmised there were six of them, closing in fast around them. He felt Gelda press against his shoulder, but he stepped away from her, not wanting to be distracted.

"Then come and meet your death," Zeldris laughed.

He sensed a movement to the side, and suddenly they were advancing. All at once Zeldris was ducking and weaving, swinging his blade in a wide arc to run them through all at once. He caught one in the stomach, who fell to the ground in a screaming mass of blood; the others shouted and were on him in an instant. But Zeldris was ready, never breaking concentration as he threw one, sinking his sword into another. The tallest one managed to land a blow, but the demon twisted and used the knight's own blade against him, sending him flying and crashing backwards into the night.

Another advanced towards him. Zeldris spun, sweeping at his feet, and the knight crashed to the ground. The demon's sword was poised at his neck less than a second later, and the fighting was over—too soon, in his opinion. The way the knight laid crooked on the ground made Zeldris suspect his back was broken, and he huffed with distaste at him being so easily bested. Knowing he was completely immobile, the demon lifted his eyes to scan the area. "I know there is another one," he called out confidently. "Show yourself and I may let you live."

He sensed someone behind him, and Zeldris turned. He narrowed his eyes, anger boiling through him suddenly. The last Holy Knight had one arm around Gelda, the other holding a blade to her throat. "Step back and I may let her live," the knight answered.

Gelda's eyes were wide as they fixed on his. But the demon remained aloof, indifferent, as he looked back at her. He quickly debated a plan, but then he saw the knight press the tip of his knife into her, drawing a stream of blood.

She screamed as Zeldris moved, faster than either of them could see. There was an explosion of dark flame from the demon, and in next instant he had Gelda against his hip, his arm securely around her. Both knights were now completely charred; all that was left were their burned remains, forever frozen, twisted in pain.

The princess was clutching him tightly, and after a moment she seemed to shake herself, pulling her head up to look at him. Their eyes met as they both caught their breath, and Gelda raised a hand to cover the wound still bleeding on her neck. "You saved me?" she asked, her voice high and tight.

Zeldris opened his mouth to make a biting comment, but suddenly his head swam and his arms felt heavy. He stumbled, crashing to one knee, and then the world seemed to blink into darkness. Gelda called his name, very far away, and it echoed through his head. He tried to stay awake, tried to climb out from the unconsciousness that was now rapidly sweeping over him. But it was too overwhelming, and in another moment, everything was gone.


	5. The Changing Tide

**Chapter Five: The Changing Tide**

Zeldris opened his eyes. He looked up and watched as Gelda moved over him. Her hair was pulled back into the formal twist she had worn when he first took her from Edinburgh, with just a few tendrils that fell to frame her beautiful face. She smiled at him coyly, and he sighed at the way her eyes traced over him. He could feel her gaze almost burning into him. Gelda kept her eyes locked on his as she reached up and pulled two pins from her hair, letting the blonde locks fall forward and over her shoulders. He could see the passion that flashed in her eyes, feel the heat of her body stretching against his.

Why was he laying down? What had just happened? She tilted forward until their faces were nearly touching and the warmth of her skin covered him. Her hands pressed against his chest before she slid them up to his shoulders. Her body rocked against him slowly, once, twice, and Zeldris gave a grunt in surprise as his pulse quickened. Then Gelda tilted her head down and he felt soft lips against his cheek.

Immediately his body began to respond to her. His heart began to race with her slow, steady movements, his blood pounding and pooling downwards. He sighed she kissed him, her mouth leaving caresses on his cheek, along his jaw, and then down his throat. Zeldris tilted his head up, unable to speak, unable to move his body, and he felt her eyelashes brush against him as she kissed the curve of his neck. Again Gelda moved, her legs slipping around his hips as she rocked on him. He wanted to grab her up and pull her closer and tighter against him, but his hands would not listen, and his arms would not obey.

 _What is happening?_ he thought. Gelda continued grinding over him, her mouth now nipping the skin along his shoulder. She did not speak or make any sound; the only thing he could hear was his own staggered breathing. Her hands slid over his shirt, pulling it open to expose the smooth skin to her roaming mouth. Zeldris closed his eyes against the feeling of her tongue on his chest, her hands slipping lower and lower.

He had not allowed himself to imagine this moment, had purposefully stamped out the brewing desires that had begun when he had pinned her to the ground after she had given him chase. But now that this was really happening, he found himself struggling to let himself go. Now was his opportunity indulge the fantasies that were always hovering just on the edges of his mind. So why was he resisting? Why couldn't he reach out and take what he wanted?

When Gelda's breath fanned over his lips, Zeldris closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation. He had never thought it would be possible to just surrender himself to _anyone_ , but the pull he felt now to the beauty hovering over him was undeniable. When her lips brushed against his, just a feather against his skin, he shivered and tilted his chin up. Their mouths connected just for a moment; but before he could press further she was moving away. He relaxed back against the ground, enjoying the feeling of her lips barely grazing over him.

Then her tongue traced along his bottom lip at the same time as one of her hands slid between his legs, and Zeldris jerked in surprise. He gasped as her hand gently squeezed around him. His eyes flew open, shocked by her boldness, only to see her hair cascading across his vision. Suddenly her mouth pressed against his ear, her palm grinding deliciously up and down against his body, and Zeldris found himself struggling to breathe as she overwhelmed him.

"Gelda," he managed to whisper, finally. Her hand stilled and pressed against him again. Then her lips were once more over his, softly brushing back and forth. Unable to stand another moment, he used all of his strength and surged forward, dragging his arms from under the invisible weight that kept him pinned, reaching out for her, opening his mouth to catch her in a kiss.

He sat up, suddenly, finding himself alone. The moon was high and bright in the sky, the forest quiet. Zeldris took a slow breath as his eyes darted around, scanning the area.

Gelda was gone.

"Damn it!" he shouted. Zeldris was on his feet in an instant, but stumbled with a sudden bout of dizziness. Everything rushed at him at once: Gelda moving against him, the fight with the Holy Knights, her hand stroking him, the shining knife at her throat, her mouth on his ear, the flash of his power…

After a quick assessment, he knew that he had not recovered enough in his sleep to easily find her. His spell must have evaporated when he used the last of his power. Zeldris cursed himself as he braced a hand against a tree to steady his feet. Now she was gone, but how long? She had just been on top of him… hadn't she? Or did she have hours of a head start?

Pushing himself to stand, Zeldris took a step forward, but halted when a noise came from the right. His senses were still waking up— _damn those knights, damn that vampire_ —and clumsily he reached for his sword.

With a growl he swung, and the intruder gave a shout as his blade swept away. The pitch of the voice gave him pause, and Zeldris blinked as he saw Gelda standing there, holding a palm up and facing him.

"What are you doing?" she cried, her voice going from fear to anger.

"You're here?" he asked in surprise. Relief that she was there, alive and unharmed, flooded through him. However, that was quickly doused with anger at her for scaring him, and for daring to use her magic on him _again_. Zeldris did not lower his sword; instead, he grit his teeth and turned his wrist to point the tip of the blade at her.

Gelda's eyes moved from his sword to his face, and she swallowed. "You were hurt. I went in search of—"

"What did you do?" he hissed. "You were just here, where did you go? What did you do to me?"

Her shoulders went up stiffly as her expression became furious. Then she reared back and threw something at Zeldris that smacked him right in the face. He gave a shout of surprise and disgust, looking down at the apple that now lay at his feet. "What the hell is this?" he shouted.

"You always think I've done something!" she yelled back at him. "I saved you! I—I brought you here, I let you sleep. I even went to find you something to eat!" Zeldris frowned at her, and Gelda stepped forward without any traces of fear, pointing an accusing finger at him as she drew closer to the blade. "You always think I've done something wrong, you don't even give me a chance! You think so lowly of me, I should have just left you to die!"

There was a pause as the two regarded one another; then, Zeldris slowly lowered his sword as he said, "So you weren't just here? You weren't just—just on top of me?"

" _What?_ " she hissed at him. "No! I _told_ you, I was trying to find something for you to eat, if you ever woke up." With a huff she crossed her arms, her face still angry and hurt.

Gelda turned away, and he stood for several moments, watching her and turning her words over in his mind. There was no lie in her eyes, and her tone had been serious. The princess really had brought him here and stayed with him. "Why didn't you run?" he asked slowly.

The princess' shoulders raised and lowered slowly as she breathed evenly. "You saved me," she finally answered, after several moments. "I owe you a debt." Her eyes glanced back at him, and he was reminded suddenly of how they had flashed in his dream or vision or whatever he had just experienced. The memory made him suddenly uncomfortable, especially when his mind easily drifted towards her hair and her fingers and her lips brushing over his skin.

Zeldris shook his head to clear it. Finally he lowered his sword. "Thank you," he said.

Gelda's brows darted upwards, and she looked as surprised as he felt at his words. "You're welcome," she whispered back.

Another beat passed, and then Zeldris bent to pick up the fruit. He bit into it with a slight grimace, the apple too sweet and tart for his tastes. The demon would have preferred meat, but he felt it would be rude not to accept it, ignoring the fact that he suddenly _cared_ about being rude to her. "Were you hurt at all?" he asked her gruffly.

The vampire shook her head. "I was fine. Those humans… you practically destroyed them." Zeldris did not bother to answer, taking another bite from the apple as Gelda watched him. "You collapsed, though," she went on. "It looked as though you lost your strength."

Zeldris swallowed uncomfortably around the piece in his throat. "I exhausted the last of my power," he said. "That knight was threatening you, and I—"

He paused. Why _did_ he do that? He had to save her, certainly. The demon king was expecting his prize any day now. But it had felt almost… instinctive. As if he _had_ to strike in that moment.

Zeldris was not impulsive. He did not act rashly or without control. So _why_?

Before he could continue puzzling his own actions, Gelda said, "Another reason I didn't run was because I know—I can't keep going on my own."

Her words made him draw up in surprise, and he blinked at he looked at her. The princess stood still and straight, her shoulders squared, her head turned to speak to him over her shoulder. Gone was the demanding, spoiled princess, the fearful and inexperienced girl. He suddenly could see the royalty that ran through her veins, the pride that was a part of her. She regarded him with a calm resolution that was so unlike the fiery and emotional princess, he frowned. Gelda was so different in this moment, it was if he was seeing her for the first time.

"Those knights would have killed me," she continued. "And I _won't_ go back to Edinburgh. So if the demon realm is my fate then… so be it."

The beauty and grace of the princess in this moment filled Zeldris with a pang of confusion. He had been wavering between exasperation and annoyance with her and this task, and a swelling lust that was being fueled by the sharp contrast between her soft appearance and the razor-sharp tongue. When Zeldris had first laid eyes on her, she seemed a docile creature that would obey without question. Yet Gelda challenged him at every opportunity, defied him and fought him and on occasion reminded him of a petulant child. She stirred his emotions like no other had before, and he hated his attraction to her and his fascination with her and how she seemed to just know how to get under his skin.

It made him want to see her bowed beneath him. It made him want to teach her a lesson about who _exactly_ was in charge here. To show her that she was nothing more than just another pawn to be used and discarded by more powerful beings than she. And then, to make her desire him as much as he did her.

But now… she looked like a queen.

Heat flashed up his neck as he recalled again his fantasy of her moving on top of him, kissing his neck, sliding her hands on his bare skin. Shame flared hotly under his skin, and he turned away, feeling like a fool. Gelda was not for him. She would never be for him.

.o0o.

Gelda had tried to ask the demon where they were heading, but he refused to answer. Travelling with him over the previous few days had taught her a few things, including reading the direction, and she had immediately noticed they were moving the wrong way. The princess wondered what he had planned.

The walk gave her time to think, since he would not speak. Seeing him collapse after fighting the Holy Knights had scared her more than she had wanted to admit at first. Never before had she come so close to death. In that moment, her fantasy of living a life that was free from danger had evaporated. Gelda had always thought that living under her father's rule was the worst fate imaginable; learning she was to be given to the demon king had replaced that with a new horror. Up until yesterday, she had imagined that _anything_ would be better than either of those two options; now she realized what a foolish idea that was. How was she, a sheltered and inexperienced princess, expected to defend herself and live in the world on her own?

Her naivete was humiliating. Gelda now knew it would be better to simply accept her fate.

Dawn approached. The princess kept her eyes trained on Zeldris' back, not wanting to fall behind. She absolutely dreaded his derisive comments now. Even though he was just a soldier, the few times he had spoken to her without disdain or insult had made her heart flip. Hearing him accuse her of doing something to him, or of running away, stung worse than she could have imagined.

When Gelda had watched him collapse on the ground, for a moment, she _had_ thought about running. She had even taken a few tentative steps, testing to see if the barrier was gone. But when she realized she could escape, the princess had stopped. A potent mixture of fear and regret had stilled her, and Gelda returned to the unconscious demon, pulling him away to the first secluded spot she could find. For hours she watched him sleep, sometimes fitfully, burning with curiosity over what he was experiencing. She still wanted to learn the secret behind his heart's desire; but now it was because she longed to know more about him, instead of to use it against him. Despite her own desire to know, however, Gelda did not use her power on him again.

Zeldris abruptly switched direction, and Gelda pushed away her thoughts of him to keep up. They were moving along a well-worn path through what was becoming more pastureland than actual forest; the trees were thinning, the land more even than before. "Is everything all right?" she whispered, but still he did not answer.

Soon a house came into view, and Gelda sucked in a surprised breath. Hurrying forward, she reached out and yanked back on the demon's arm. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, a bit exasperated. "Aren't you afraid someone will see us?"

Zeldris paused in his stride. "It's empty," he finally answered, not bothering to turn and look at her. "There is no one around for miles."

Gelda let his arm go, feeling a bit humbled for doubting him. Once more she followed him, and they approached the silent building together.

The demon easily pushed the door open, and they stepped inside. It was a small cottage, covered in dust, but it was dry and quiet. A small kitchen was on one side, with a fireplace in the center of the floor. On the other side was a rather large table with a few stools surrounding it in an unusual disarray. There were a few simple bowls left scattered, but other than that it was tidy and simple. Gelda had the impression that whoever had lived here had left in haste.

It was dark, the sun having not yet risen, but Zeldris easily started a fire in the hearth. As he worked, Gelda walked slowly around the room, examining the other simple furnishings: a chair and rug near the center of the room, a chest that contained two hand-woven blankets, a small cabinet with cooking bowls and spoons. It was incredibly plain compared to the elaborate decorations of Edinburgh, the luxuries that she was used to: no tapestries, no wrought-iron sconces, no plush fabrics covering the furniture. But what Gelda _could_ sense was the care and the pride that had gone into building such a home.

"What are we doing here?" she asked when he was finished.

Zeldris straightened, but still did not look at her. "I've decided to stop and rest," he answered. "Moving you through Britannia is too dangerous. If we stay here for the day, then by tonight I should have enough power to get us to the demon realm."

She gave a small gasp, but he did not react. Gelda clasped her hands, her fingers twisting as she thought of finally arriving, of becoming the property of the demon king in a matter of hours. "You should rest as well," he said. "You won't want to be presented to the king if you're about to collapse. You'll need to keep your eyes and ears open if you wish to survive the introduction."

"Survive?" she yelped sharply. "What do you mean, survive? He sent you for me, didn't he? He wants to—I thought—he wanted to marry me?"

Zeldris huffed as he walked over to the table. As he unbuttoned his coat and removed it, laying it on the wood surface, he said, "Perhaps, but that tongue of yours will certainly get you into trouble if you don't hold it. I might find your defiance amusing, but the king will not."

Even though she had resigned herself to it, facing this reality suddenly was proving to be more nerve-wracking than she had thought. So much had happened on their journey that the princess had not given the king much thought, and now that the time to meet him grew nearer, she was overwhelmed with questions.

Gelda pictured herself facing the demon king. She imagined a fearsome creature on a terrible throne, his eyes piercing through her the way Zeldris' often would. Would he use his power on her to search her thoughts, learn her powers, seduce her to him? Would she be no more than a slave to him? Would he ignore her, or would her place as his queen garner his explicit attention? She shuddered, wondering which would be worse. Gelda looked down suddenly, her hands smoothing over her dress, now ripped and dirty. She raised them to her face, her eyes grazing over the streaks of dirt, the small cuts from having been travelling through the forest for three days.

The vampire blinked, drawing in another sharp breath. Her thoughts ran furiously, nearly making her dizzy, thinking of what her father would say, what the demon king would think of her. Then Zeldris' words echoed again in her mind, and her worries over her appearance suddenly seemed small in comparison. "You need to help me," she said, walking quickly around the table to stand opposite of him. He didn't respond, turning away from her a bit to unbuckle his scabbard, so Gelda moved to stand next to him, her hand pressing firmly on his arm. "Please," she said.

He stilled, but did not look at her. "Help with what?"

The fingers pressed on his arm clenched a bit. She blinked rapidly, trying to calm the rising panic. "I need you to tell me what you know about the demon king. I need to be prepared for…" Her voice faded away, and Gelda leaned closer, her eyes pleading. "I have to know how to please him. I need to know what to expect." Her fingers dug into him even more. "You must be close to him in order to have been given this task. I know you are only one of his soldiers, but please, you must know some things that will help me."

She felt Zeldris stiffen, and he stared blankly across the room for several long moments. "I suppose so," he finally answered.

"Thank you," Gelda started to say, but he quickly cut her off. " _After_ we rest." He nodded to the corner of the room. "There is a ladder there, so I imagine there is a bed above, in the loft. Sleep while you can. I'll be back shortly."

Zeldris turned away, pulling away from her hand. "Where are you going?" she asked, hating the way her voice rose with anxiety.

"To eat," was the simple response, and then he was gone, the door shutting firmly behind him.

Gelda steadied herself, and then slowly walked towards the ladder. Her limbs were suddenly heavy as she climbed up to the room above. Smiling, she saw that Zeldris had been right, there was a bed there. She climbed in tiredly, noting how hard and uncomfortable it was, so unlike the lush, soft mattress of her own. There was only a wool blanket, but she pulled it around herself eagerly, grateful for the bit of comfort. Sighing, she curled her legs up a bit, happy to finally be at rest.

Her room had had many stuffed pillows, blankets made of the finest material, bedding and curtains spun from silk. She closed her eyes, picturing the ornate furniture and rich fabrics while listening for Zeldris to return. As she shifted on the bed into a more comfortable position, her body and mind sinking into deep relaxation, a thought struck her: she was more content here, in this plain, modest cottage, with this demon soldier, than she had ever been while living in luxury as princess of Edinburgh.


	6. Questions and Confession

**Chapter Six: Questions and Confession**

"Are you hungry?"

Gelda looked up in surprise. Zeldris had not spoken to her since they had gotten up, shortly after the sun was directly overhead. "No, thank you, I'm fine," she answered. He nodded and turned back to the window, his arms folded and his back straight as he kept watch.

The princess was sitting in a chair, trying not to watch him. She had expected them to leave immediately, but the demon told her he had not recovered enough, and needed more sleep. "One more night," he had told her, and Gelda nodded, secretly glad for the reprieve.

One more night before she would be presented to the demon king. One more night before she would become his queen, and fulfill whatever duties he imagined for her. She doubted very much that he wanted a partner to rule; but would he want a slave? A trophy? A lover? What would she do when they were alone together? The rumors surrounding the king were only about his swift wrath and his deadly power, the way he could destroy his enemies, the iron rule he wielded over the kingdom. Now she sat, turning these thoughts over in her mind, even as she struggled not to think about the demon in the same room as she.

She had slept easily after climbing into the bed, and a short time later had woken to the sound of Zeldris climbing the ladder. He had practically flung himself down next to her after taking off his boots and shirt, and seemed to go to sleep immediately. At first, Gelda was shocked that a soldier would dare lay down with her, half-dressed, and make the presumption that she would even want to share; but truthfully, she did not mind at all. In fact, she liked having the demon so close by. She felt safe with him there, and found there was something comforting about his presence next to her, something calming about watching the rise and fall of his chest.

Gelda drifted in and out of sleep, and each time she jolted awake, she immediately looked to make sure he was still next to her. The morning wore on as they dozed, and each time she stared at him through drooping eyelids, the vampire noticed something different about him. His lips parted slightly as he slept, and Gelda remembered his mouth on hers, the heat that seared from him as they kissed. There was a small scar on his temple that she had never noticed before, and she wondered how he had gotten it. Her eyes traced along the outline of his body, and she thought of how it had felt to have the solid form pressed on top of her, how his strength had held her in place as he moved against her. As sleep washed over her again, Zeldris was her last thought, and she dreamed about him holding her tightly.

When she had awoken again, Zeldris was sitting up next to her, his hands rubbing his face and combing through his hair. She watched him in surprise for a moment, not used to seeing him even slightly discomposed, barely breathing to not make a sound. He stretched his back, leaning forward, and Gelda felt a twist in her chest at the sight of the muscle flexing, and resisted the urge to reach out and run her palm along his skin.

Gelda would be waking up next to the demon king after tomorrow, she supposed. She wondered if Zeldris would keep his promise to help her prepare to see him in the morning, and decided he would. But what to ask? She had so many questions her mind was actually _blank_.

"If you need to go out for anything," he said suddenly, "now is the time. There is no one nearby for miles."

His voice jolted her from her thoughts, and Gelda shook herself from the daydream of him in the bed. "Go out?" she said confused.

Zeldris nodded, not turning around. "There is a stream nearby, if you wanted to wash."

She blinked at him in surprise, then looked down at her hands. The streaks of dirt were still there, and suddenly a bath sounded perfect. "I looked around here when I got back this morning," Zeldris continued. "There is a chest over there that you might find some clothes in." He nodded in the direction of the back of the house, and then he turned his attention back to the window.

With a mumbled thanks she went to the wooden chest and opened it. There was an array of scraps, and a blanket, and a few shirts in need of mending. But there were also several dresses, one of them a plain blue made of sturdy but comfortable material. It was very unlike her beautiful clothes made of rich fabrics and fine brocades, but it was clean and dry and she was very, unexpectedly, happy to have it.

Gelda left without a word, following the small trail from the house into the forest. In just a few minutes she came upon the little river. Not much more than a brook, really, but the water looked clean and inviting. With a quick glance around Gelda shed her soiled dress, then looked down indecisively at her underclothes. She would need them cleaned before leaving tomorrow, but also would need them dry to wear; finally, she decided to keep them on as she waded into the water.

It was a crisp sort of cold, but not freezing, and Gelda was grateful for the ability to feel refreshed. She wished she had some soap, but was content enough to move out to where the water came up to her waist. The princess dipped her arms in, then shivered as she sank down to her shoulders; finally, with a deep breath she dipped underneath, coming up laughing and sputtering from the water.

The day was warm but not warm enough to keep her from a chill, so after only a few minutes she hurried out and back to the grass. Gelda wrung out her hair and quickly braided it back to keep it from dripping; but now she had a problem. If she kept on her wet clothes, her dress would be wet too… but could she dare go without them? _He won't even know_ , she said to herself, and with a quick glance around quickly shed the rest of her things and slipped the simple dress over her head. Finally she took her own dress and gave it a quick scrub in the water, trying to get out the worst of the dirt.

Zeldris chuckled at her when she returned, and she looked at him in confusion. "What is it?" she asked, delicately spreading her dress out to dry next to the fireplace.

"This must be the first time you ever cleaned anything yourself," he replied, obviously amused.

But Gelda put her hand on her hip as she stood and said haughtily, "I know how to take care of myself."

"Mmm hmmm," teased the demon. "This from the princess who couldn't catch a human."

She sucked in a breath, trying to think of a retort, but before she could reply Zeldris asked, "Do you feel better now?"

His unexpected concern made her face flush a bit with heat. "Yes, thank you," she answered. The demon was looking at her again over his shoulder, and they regarded one another for a moment. Then Gelda moved, sitting down in her chair, smoothing down her dress. "May I ask you some questions now? About the demon king?"

The princess watched as his back stiffened a bit, and Zeldris turned to take another look out the window. Then he sighed and walked towards her, stopping short at the table and leaning his hip against it. "What do you want to know?"

Gelda looked up at him, and the daydream she was having earlier of laying in bed with him came unbidden to her mind. She cleared her throat and pushed her shoulders back, sitting up a bit straighter. "Is he as frightening as everyone says?" she asked.

Gelda expected him to scoff at her, or even laugh; what she did not expect was the very serious expression that came over his face. "Yes," he answered immediately. "He has power that no one, not even Meliodas, knows about."

"Meliodas?" she echoed, her voice rising sharply in pitch. She had heard of the oldest son, the head of the king's execution squad that did his bidding. "There are… three princes, correct?"

Zeldris shifted a bit, and then nodded. Gelda blew out a breath. "Is there anything I should know about them?"

There was another pause, and then the demon answered, "Don't get in their way."

His words were ominous, hanging heavy in the room. Gelda thought for a moment before continuing, "What will the king expect of me?"

"Obedience," he answered immediately. "Don't question him, don't deny him. He is not… unnecessarily cruel." Gelda looked up at him with a bit of surprise, and Zeldris shrugged. "No one disobeys the king. _No one_. If someone displeases him, they are punished for it. Then you can only hope for a quick death."

The color drained from the princess' face as she thought of this. "And you say he's not unnecessarily cruel," she said bitterly.

Zeldris gave a harsh laugh. "He does not kill or destroy without reason is all I'm saying. So don't give him one."

Gelda was sure that was meant to be reassuring, but it was actually the opposite. There was no room for error, no chance to learn by mistake. One word out of turn or order forgotten, and Gelda would wish she was back under the vicious thumb of her father. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she was mortified that panic was settling inside of her. The last thing she wanted to do was be hysterical in front of Zeldris, but as her heart began to beat faster and her lungs felt as though they were being squeezed, Gelda pressed her face in her hands, trying to get a hold of herself.

"What's wrong?" Zeldris asked sharply. She shook her head, the blood in her temples beginning to pound, stars dancing in the corner of her vision. All she could think of was the dread of knowing she would make a mistake, the inevitable moment when she would displease him, and then she would be subjected to whatever punishment the king wanted. She didn't care _what_ Zeldris said; the king would be cruel.

"I… I…" The air was suddenly thin, and Gelda tilted forward; but then he was there, strong arms on her shoulders, holding her steady in the chair. The world righted itself from the dangerous angled it had slanted, and as Gelda blinked rapidly, Zeldris' face came swimming into her vision. His face was still hard, but also filled with… concern? Anxiety? The princess shook her head, unwilling to believe it.

But his hands were still there, pressing reassuringly on her arms, his thumbs making comforting circles against her skin. "Just breathe," he murmured, and she reached out, wanting to hold onto him, needing something that would keep her tethered to the ground. She felt his shirt under her fingertips as her hands slid along his chest and around his neck; Gelda pulled, bringing him forward, just as she moved closer, and all at once their mouths were pressed together in a kiss.

Immediately the swell of emotion was calmed, and Gelda leaned into him, wanting more. She tilted her face and stroked his lips with hers. Zeldris' fingers dug deeper into her skin, but she did not care.

He was kneeling on the floor in front of her, and Gelda slipped her arms around him as she slid from the chair to the floor. Zeldris caught her around the waist, his strong arms pulling her up against him; then he was kissing her back, pressing his tongue into her mouth and making her gasp. His hands moved over her spine as she clung to him, her heart now pounding for an entirely different reason.

Gelda felt her anxieties melting away in his mouth and his body against hers and the way his breathing was turning ragged. The kiss went on and on, several minutes going by as they enjoyed the taste and feel of one another until the princess thought she would never have enough. She bit his lower lip, and he made a moan, the sound more enticing than anything she had ever heard before.

Suddenly he released her mouth, pushing her back a bit to give some space between them. Gelda was amazed to see his face was as flushed as hers felt, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he searched her face. "What are you doing?" he rasped out. There was just the bite of accusation, but mostly his tone was of confusion, and tight as he seemed to visibly struggle for control.

Gelda just shook her head, not knowing what to say; her hands slowly fell from his shoulders to press against his chest. She returned his gaze, not speaking or moving, her mind surprisingly at ease despite the kiss they had just shared, but her body tense with anticipation of what he would do.

After another moment, Zeldris stood, his hands not leaving her. He dragged her up to her feet, holding steady to her waist; then he settled her back into the chair before finally releasing her. She watched him with wide eyes as he swallowed, taking another breath. The air was suddenly stifling and uncomfortable between them, until Zeldris broke the silence, saying, "I'll be back." Then he turned and walked out the door without another word.

.o0o.

Zeldris didn't know what to expect when he returned to the house. Gelda kissing him had been so unexpected that he could not even begin to understand _why_. It was the first time in a very, very long time that he had felt overwhelmed, acting on instinct to pull her close and match her mouth with his own. He had thought she was going to faint for a second; it was shocking for her to be clinging to him a moment later, her hands insistent on him, her sighs and her soft body and the _taste_ of her lips…

The demon had left and headed straight, not having an idea where to go or what to do, just knowing he needed to put as much space between them as he could. Zeldris took out a tree or two for good measure, the thundering of his blood and the adrenaline from the encounter making him practically shake. Finally he ended up going to the same stream he had sent Gelda to, using the cool water to help bring down the heat that burned inside of him.

The afternoon was wearing on, and Zeldris knew he had to go back. But it was more than just the idea of seeing her again that made him drag his feet as he walked towards the house. If it had just been a kiss, he could have forgotten about it instantly, charging it to the lack of proper sleep and the days of close quarters. He might have even had a laugh about it, the proud princess being the one to give in to _him_ , to pursue _him_ with her kiss; especially since she still did not know that he was a prince, and thought he was just a soldier in service to the king.

But none of those things felt right to him now. All he wanted was to hold her against him again, to taste her and feel her hands on his shoulders again, to see that look of desire in her eyes and directed at him, again. Any idea of mocking her or even ignoring her seemed impossible against the need to go back to the house and have her again.

Yet Zeldris knew if he did that, he might not stop. He would never stop until she was stretched out underneath him, and he had captured more than just her mouth, felt more than just her fingertips on the back of his neck. So he crashed through the woods, and waded into the cooling stream, and finally sat on the bank in silence, waiting for this craving for her he could not explain to go away. Because Gelda could not be his. She never could be, and he was putting both of their lives in danger just by thinking of the possibility.

And the worst of it was, she had no idea.

It was getting dark inside of the house, and Zeldris' eyes swept the room until they landed on Gelda, stoking the fire in the hearth. She was doing it completely wrong, and he huffed to himself as he stalked across the room. He took the bellows from her hands and she silently moved away, not looking at him. The demon stared at her back for a moment before turning his attention to the fireplace.

When the fire was going steadily, he looked over at her again. Gelda had moved her chair closer to the window, watching the sun go down with her arms folded. He replaced the tools and stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. Finally he asked, "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

She did not move or respond, and at first he wondered if she had even heard him. But then Gelda said quietly, "There really is no point, is there?"

Zeldris frowned. "What do you mean?"

"As soon as I get to the demon realm…" Her voice faded away, and Zeldris swallowed. "I always thought that leaving Edinburgh… it was what I always wanted. I thought, when I left, that my life would finally start." Her breath caught, and his eyes widened a bit when he realized she was _crying_. "But that's not going to happen," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "I was a nothing more than a possession in Edinburgh. Now I'll be one again."

"That's not true," he snapped harshly. Zeldris hated weakness, and seeing Gelda surrender like this made his insides churn. He wanted to shake her in this moment, make her go back to the way she was just yesterday, when she was defiant and impassioned, even further back than that when she was smug and presumptuous. _That_ was preferable than seeing her now, folding under her misery instead of facing it, yielding to her fate instead of making her own.

Gelda spun in her chair, looking at him sharply, and he almost laughed in relief to see there was still some spark. "It _is_ true," she insisted.

Instead of laughing, however, he moved to stand in front of her, his arms crossed as he glared back at her. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, earning a scowl. "You are the daughter of a king. The last thing you'll ever be is someone's slave."

There was still some doubt in her eyes, and Zeldris sighed. "The king will be pleased with you. I'm sure of it." She turned and looked away dismissively, so Zeldris said insistently, "Don't ask me how, but I just know."

Gelda's face softened, and Zeldris blew out a breath, the pressure in his chest relieved just a bit. "You're right," she finally said, swiping her hand angrily over her eyes. "I'm a princess, and I'm marrying a powerful king. I should be happy." She gave a harsh chuckle. "You must find me ridiculous right now." He did not respond, so she looked up at him and said, "Can I confess something to you, Zeldris?"

He thought of the confession she had made the day before last, when she admitted she could not continue on her own, that she would resign herself to being the demon queen. It had been easy to see in her eyes, in that moment, the blood of the kings that had come before her, the line of royalty that had continued on for hundreds and hundreds of years, to finally end with this girl. Now he could still see it there, now that she was being honest with him and with herself.

Then he thought about his own confession he needed make, that he was not who she thought he was, and the lie felt heavy around his neck.

"My father, the king… he only wanted my obedience," she said. "He only cared about his power, and the powers of others, how it could benefit him. That's all I was to him. Just a pawn to be used. And nothing I could do or ever do would change that."

Zeldris' skin was suddenly too hot. She could have been describing his own experience, his own relationship with a powerful and uncaring king. But she would not know that, would she? He cleared his throat. "My father is… was… difficult to please," he said slowly.

She smiled at him, a genuine smile that sent a little shiver through him. Their eyes locked for a long moment. "I suppose we're not that different," she said. He was struck with the sudden urge to confess to her who he really was, and why he really had to stop the kiss when he did—

But the words would not come. He knew she would be furious with him when she found out, but Zeldris wanted that moment to come later. For now, for the first time, he wanted to give his strength to someone else.

Before he could speak, Gelda slowly stood. "Zeldris," she said, and hearing the soft way she said his name made him feel as though his heart would beat right out of his chest. "You are the only person who has ever made me feel as though I had a choice. And I wish… I could choose to stay with you."

Her words washed over him, and Zeldris felt his mind go numb. No one had ever chosen him above another; no one had ever seen him as more than the king's son and soldier. She took a step forward, until they were nearly touching; something unspoken passed between them, and all of a sudden his arms were around her, her hands pressed against his back, and Gelda buried her face in his neck. Zeldris pushed her back until she was against the wall. His hands moved to the sides of her face, and he tilted it up and kissed her.

It was chaste, and soft, and Gelda sagged against him as he kept her pressed against the wood. He swept his tongue over the seam of her lips; she sighed as she opened them, the sound making his blood start to heat. Gelda's hands pressed against his back, her fingers digging into him just a bit as he licked the inside of her mouth, enjoying the taste of her, trying to sear the memory of her into his skin.

He pulled away just enough to say against her lips, "I'm going to protect you. In the demon realm, when we get there… I'll be there to protect you."

"But the king—"

"Gelda," he insisted, and the fierceness of his tone made her open her eyes. "I will protect you."

He kissed her again, harder this time, and her thin arms went around his waist, pulling him tighter against her body. Zeldris groaned as her hands pressed on his shoulder blades, tilting his head to deepen their kiss, determined to take her breath away. But it was _him_ that was panting against her, squeezing her tightly, fighting for control as his head spun.

She whispered his name, and he grabbed her and lifted her. Zeldris carried her quickly up the ladder as Gelda clung to him, and then he laid her down on the mattress. He climbed over her, pausing to look down at her flushed cheeks and shining eyes in the failing light.

Gelda sat up, sliding against him as he knelt next to her; now it was the princess' turn to cradle his face, pulling him down into another kiss. He reached behind her and pulled apart her braid, dragging his fingers through the soft waves it had created. Her fingertips brushing his jaw and her lips pressing tentatively against him were surprising, and seductive, and Zeldris clenched his hands around the ends of her long tresses in an effort to hold himself back from pouncing on her.

Then she pulled him down, catching him off guard again. He fell forward, laying on top of her, his hands sliding up her waist. She was perfect, and Zeldris could feel himself getting lost with every passing moment. There was a warning in his mind, telling him to stop this before it went too far. But her lips followed his as he tried to move away, and then he groaned as her hands slid inside his shirt and traced along his skin.

"Gelda," he said, finally pulling his mouth from hers. "We can't do this."

"I know," she whispered. The poignancy in her voice made his heart clench. He had expected her to beg him, to argue even. Her sad acceptance was much, much worse.

The darkness was creeping in as twilight deepened outside, and he paused as he looked down at her, wondering what would happen if he didn't move away, wondering why he was choosing not to stay. _Get up and go, now,_ he admonished himself. There were a hundred reasons why he needed to stop, but Zeldris could not help it when he pressed his mouth down one more time, letting it linger there.

She moved against him, shifting her hips as her chin tilted up, slanting her mouth. _Stop!_ he shouted to himself, even as he moved on top of her, settling on her body. His hand snaked under her dress, sliding quickly up her leg, and he felt Gelda stiffen underneath of him. "I should… I should go…" Zeldris murmured, moving his lips down her chin, pressing hotly against her throat. Feeling her bare skin was fanning his own desire, his body beginning to stir.

"Yes," she whispered again. Then his fingers dusted along her thighs, slipping between them, and when he felt the bare skin under her clothes he groaned. She whimpered as he brushed her body, and the sound snapped his resolve to move away. Instantly his hand was moving, teasing her opening, as he was desperate to hear that sound again. He knew this was wrong, and dangerous, and a betrayal on many different levels, but none of that mattered as her back arched up and her head fell to the side, opening her neck for him to kiss.

It was a simple act, just stroking her body, but Zeldris was overcome with the sight and sound of her twisting in pleasure against him, the need to see her come undone immediate and intense. Keeping himself in check was nearly too much, his body thrumming, demanding that he push himself between her legs and find his own end buried inside of her. So he focused on Gelda, memorizing every sound and the feel of her skin and the way she rocked her hips against him. He did not want it to end, even as he brought her swiftly and steadily to her release; feeling her legs tensing and her fingers digging into his back brought _him_ more pleasure than he had ever thought possible. Her mouth sought his again, and eagerly he obliged, capturing her hand in his when she weakly brought her palm to his cheek.

He removed his hand from her hot, slick center, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close against him. She dozed as he kissed her cheek and sighed. After tomorrow, Gelda would belong to the demon king; but that seemed incredibly far away in this moment. For now, he would have her however he could.


	7. Homecoming

**Chapter Seven: Homecoming**

Gelda watched Zeldris as he slept. She wasn't ready to move and disturb him, or disturb this peaceful moment, so she just laid next to him, enjoying his warm presence against her and the feel of his steady breathing. Light was just coming into the room, signalling the sun had risen, and that they had slept the entire night together, curled around each other.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think about leaving today. Zeldris had promised to protect her when they reached the demon realm, but how could he do that? He was just a soldier. He had to follow orders, like taking her from Edinburgh. If the king wanted her punished, or gone, then there was nothing that Zeldris could do.

But he had been so earnest when he said it that she could not help but believe he would find a way. Somehow he would keep her safe, and she had never felt so sure of anything then, as he had kissed her and held her tightly, and then carried her up to the bed. She knew that it had been wrong, and terribly dangerous, but it had been too easy to get swept away by him. Her body tingled as she remembered his mouth on her, his hands on her, bringing her into ecstasy. The vampire did not want it to stop, but she had lost herself in his kiss and his touch.

Gelda did not even know that she could feel this way about someone… but now she knew for sure that she loved Zeldris.

The idea made her frightened and elated at the same time. To be a princess, in love with a common soldier… all while promised to the fearsome demon king. The idea was ludicrous, but she knew in her heart that what she felt was real. Putting aside the terror of what would happen if they were discovered, could Gelda risk everything for him? There was so much she still didn't know about him, so much doubt that surrounded him. Could Zeldris love her back? Is a demon even capable of such a thing?

She studied his face, wishing she could know for sure. Gelda would do anything, if he really did have feelings for her…

An idea struck. Gelda swallowed, and then with a last glance to make sure he was asleep, she closed her eyes. The vampire pushed her energy outward, slinking through the quiet of Zeldris' mind. The last time she had done this, it had felt dangerous, as if she was wading through thorns. But now it was calm, and still, and she slipped easily inside.

The wall was there, but when Gelda pushed against it, she was surprised to feel it _move_. She nearly lost their connection in her shock. But she regained her bearings and quickly pressed forward.

The energy surrounding his heart's desire was familiar, wrapping around her and pulling her in, and Gelda felt completely drawn to it. Typically she would receive pictures, or feelings, something to give a clue to what the person wanted. But she found herself unwittingly reaching out for it herself, wanting to feel for herself whatever _this_ was. It was unsettling for her, and Gelda felt shaken by how her power was responding to him; when she tried to pull back a bit, she felt as though she was being drawn inside instead. In her mind, she reached out, not sure if she wanted to push the feeling away, or pull it closer.

All at once, she realized why: the heart's desire she found inside of Zeldris was the same one as her own.

The feeling was overwhelming then, now that she had recognized it, and she stretched out her hand, sliding it across his chest, even as inside her mind, she pressed her energy forward to entwine with his. It was approval, not accolades he wanted; purpose, not just strength. Underneath the arrogance and pride was the unmistakable soul of someone who desired to simply be _recognized_ ; briefly she remembered what he had said about his father being difficult, and Gelda wondered if they were even more alike than she had thought.

The realization made her breathless, and shakily she began to pull away, not wanting him to wake up and discover what she had done. But then, incredibly, his own mind reached out to her. Gelda nearly panicked for a moment, afraid that she would somehow be trapped; but it was inviting as it enveloped her. She found herself sinking into him, wanting more of him, pressing forward carelessly to see what else was inside his heart, when another image surfaced.

Without thinking she looked again, waiting in anticipation to see what it was—and was astounded to see _herself_.

Gelda gasped out loud, and the noise made the demon stir next to her. Quickly her powers snapped backwards, and Gelda blinked rapidly as the images faded. Zeldris wanted her. He _wanted her_. But today she was going to the demon king.

She bit her lip, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. She wasn't ready yet. _She didn't want this to be over_. Gelda felt his arms tighten around her as he stretched, and she rolled slowly so that she was on top of him, Zeldris on his back on the mattress.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him as he blinked awake; then she dipped her face down to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Zeldris made a little noise, so she continued to press her lips lightly across his cheek, then down his neck, unsure of what to do, but wanting to do something. Anything to keep this moment from ending; anything to make him feel the way she had felt the night before.

His hands went to her hair, combing through it slowly as he murmured her name. Gelda moved up to press her mouth on his, not wanting him to speak and say it was time. But thankfully, he eagerly returned her kiss, the fingers in her hair twisting around her locks.

Heat stirred inside of her, and she opened her lips to kiss him deeply, slowly. Zeldris slid his hands down her back, making her shiver, and she arched a bit into his touch. Her legs slipped to either side of his hips, and when she pressed against him again, she felt the obvious hardness rubbing against her. Again she rocked her hips, sliding up and down on him, and he gripped her tighter with a low groan.

Her emotions were churning as they kissed and caressed each other, as Gelda's desire for him grew. She wanted more, much more, but it was impossible. A small whimper escaped her as her chest started feeling tight. Would she even ever see him again? His promise to protect her echoed in her mind again, and she wondered about his life in the demon realm. He was close to the king, but how close? Would he always be out on an errand, or would she see him at the castle? Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter, as if that would keep him close.

Then more questions started clouding her mind, deepening the confusion she felt even as his hands slid over her hips. Would she even be able to stand seeing him, after she married the king? Would the memory of this moment with him give her strength, or cause more pain? What if one day she saw Zeldris with someone else?

Gelda pulled away, pressing the side of her face against his, drawing in several slow, deep breaths. Then she sat up on his lap, and he gazed up at her expectantly. As she looked back, she realized he could not cause her pain. He had promised that he would protect her, and she believed him. Zeldris would not lie to her. And she would give all of herself in return.

As he reached for her again, Gelda gripped her dress and pulled it over her head. The demon's eyes widened at the sight of her bare body, and then he was sitting up, his arms around her, his mouth pressed on her neck. She shivered and tilted her head down, meeting his lips, and their kiss became hot and aggressive as his hands moved over her body. The doubts that had been swirling around her vanished as he roamed over her curves. Her skin burned with his touch, her body tightening in pleasure as his mouth and hands slid over her naked flesh.

The princess began to move again, rocking her hips as the fabric that strained against him scraped her body, and Zeldris groaned. His hands squeezed her deliberately, the air becoming electric as their passion grew. The need for him was so sharp that Gelda knew nothing else but aching desire. He was moving now, too, thrusting against her dampening body, making her cry out softly. Her hands gripped him tightly as he kissed her breasts, wanting him inside of her, wanting him to make her his own. She needed this one moment, before she went to the king; she needed to have a piece of him, a memory, to take with her and give her strength.

But suddenly, Zeldris froze. He pulled his mouth away from her, leaving her panting, and she looked down at him in confusion. There was a terrible moment where his hands squeezed her tightly, and she could feel him shaking. Gelda started to say his name, but in a moment he had pushed her from his lap, scrambling up off of the bed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling foolish, embarrassment causing her cheeks to flare. Of course he would not want this, or want her; he would be practically committing treason! Gelda covered her face with her hands, trying to get a hold of her fear and her emotions. There was a pit in her stomach as the humiliation twisted with the desire that still pulsed inside of her.

"Gelda," he said sharply, "get dressed. Now."

The princess choked on a sob, squeezing her eyes closed, trying not to let him see; but then she felt his hand on her arm, pulling her up. "Didn't you hear me? Get dressed!" Gelda looked up at in him in surprise, and pulled back when she saw panic, his jaw set in a grimace. "There's something coming. We need to go."

"What?" Zeldris did not answer, but pulled her to stand, snatching up the blue dress and pushing it at her. Unable to breathe, she pulled it over her head, and as soon as she was covered he grabbed her hand and yanked her behind him. The demon snatched her up in his arms and jumped to the bottom floor, and then hurried them both out the door.

Gelda blinked in the sunlight, immediately crashing into Zeldris as he pulled up short. The day still had the morning chill clinging to it, and she shivered and instinctively pressed against him. She could immediately sense how tensed he was, and cautiously she peered around him to see what had stopped them.

There was a group of a dozen demons surrounding them, each more terrifying than the last. Their bodies were covered in horns and scales, the their hands ending in sharp claws, some of them as tall as the roof of the house. The power from the demons was suddenly choking, and she gasped for air as her eyes frantically darted from one to the other, then down to the ground.

"What are you doing here?" Zeldris bit out sharply. His voice was dark, threatening, a tone she had not heard since the first day, when he had stalked into the throne room of Edinburgh.

"We've come to rescue you," said a male voice. The sound of it was almost beautiful, and Gelda glanced up to see a tall demon with a long moustache and a cape draped over his shoulders that fell to the ground. His eyes betrayed nothing as he stared at them with a bored expression.

Next to him stood a woman with wild hair and almost no clothing, her demon markings swirling around her to barely cover her body. "Rescue my ass," she said, her arms folded. "You don't look like you're in any trouble."

"You didn't answer my question," Zeldris snapped back. "I'm on a mission for the king. How dare you—"

"The king has grown concerned that your return has been so delayed," the first one said. "It wouldn't do for his future bride to be lost somewhere in Britannia." His eyes slid over her and then back to meet Zeldris' stare. "Or his youngest son, for that matter."

Gelda froze, the blood suddenly draining from her face, her breath caught in her throat. Zeldris was the king's _son_?

Immediately she stepped back, wanting to put space between them. Her mind rolled in a rush of confusion, barely listening as Zeldris said, "You can see we're both fine. I was taking the princess to my father today, in fact."

 _His father?_ Gelda blew out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and Zeldris reached back to grip her wrist to steady her.

"Today my ass," the woman sneered, and the first said, "What Derrieri means, of course, is that the king had expected you back days ago. He feared that you had come to some sort of trouble."

"I'll explain the delay to the king, but not to you," Zeldris said deliberately.

The man smiled. "Of course, my prince. It is a relief to see you unharmed. And the beauty behind you, I assume she—"

"Get going, Monspeet," growled Zeldris.

The demon huffed a bit, drawing his chin up; then his hand shot out from under his cape to give a signal to the others. Gelda locked eyes with the woman, and Derrieri narrowed her own in a suspicious glare. The demons began to prepare to teleport, and Zeldris turned around, taking the princess by the arms.

"Gelda," he whispered to her, and she snapped her face up to meet his. His brows were drawn, distress etched over his face; but the princess only gazed up at him, her eyes widening at they met his, the truth pounding inside of her head.

"The prince?" she asked softly, unbelieving. "You—you're the king's _son_?"

He pursed his lips tightly together, his fingers digging into her for a moment. "I—I didn't mean to lie to you, I—"

"Your Highness?" the demon called behind him, and Zeldris growled in frustration. With a final look, he wrapped an arm around her, pressing his hand firmly against her back. But even as Gelda felt herself filled with the power of the magic taking them, inside she was empty.

.o0o.

Zeldris searched Gelda's face as they materialized in the demon realm, pressing the hand on her back tighter to pull her against him. He needed just a few minutes alone with her, to try to explain what he had done. But when they arrived, there were others already waiting to escort them.

He felt the princess move away, but his grip kept her against him. Unwilling to let her go just yet, he turned and said to the waiting guard, "I'll escort the princess myself."

"The king wishes to see you first," Monspeet countered, his tone making it clear there would be no argument. "I will take the princess to her room. I'm sure Her Highness would like to prepare herself to be received by the king."

"Yes, thank you," Gelda said quietly, pulling herself from his grip. Zeldris grit his teeth angrily and glared at the Commandment. "I said that I would take her."

"You remember where the throne room is, I trust," Monspeet answered, before gesturing to Gelda. "This way, Your Highness."

The princess nodded, and unsure of what to do, Zeldris simply watched her follow the demons who served as her escort. He stared after her, willing for her to turn around, to say something—just to _look_ at him, even—but she continued behind them, not acknowledging him in any way.

Furious, Zeldris stormed off in the direction of the throne room. He did not bother to wait for permission or an introduction before pushing his way inside. With long strides he stalked towards the dais, expecting a challenge or a reprimand at any moment. The king sat in his throne, just as Zeldris had last seen him, surrounded by a group of advisors. He stood there seething, his hands clenching into fists as the anger from being taken from Gelda, from being _fetched_ like a wayward child. The demon was certain everyone in the room could feel the malice boiling hotly from him, and expected an immediate rebuke from the king; but instead the king said almost cordially, "Zeldris! There you are. You had me worried."

"I was out on _your_ errand," he nearly snarled, fighting to keep control of his temper. "How dare you send those two—"

"You were due back days ago," the king interrupted sharply. "I thought I could trust you with this simple task, but obviously I was wrong."

Taking several deep breaths, Zeldris ground out, "My powers were depleted when I fought Izraf. I needed a few days to gather my strength back."

The king snorted. "None of my Commandments would have had such a hard time. Any one of them would have returned within the hour with my prize." Zeldris felt a sharp pang of fury through his temple as his father waved his hand in dismissal. "I suppose it doesn't matter much anyway. You are dismissed for now. I'll let Meliodas handle your punishment for making me wait."

He glared at the king, his mouth twisting as he tried to think of a response. But his father had already turned his attention away, gripping the arms of his throne. "Where is my bride? I want to see the girl."

There was murmured conversation around the room, and frustrated, Zeldris turned to the side to leave. But he only got a few steps when an announcement was made for the vampire princess. Everyone stopped talking, eager to see the king's new mate, and he stopped in his tracks.

Zeldris told himself to go. The way she had looked at him told him everything he needed to know about her reaction to the truth. There was no reason to stay; he could only wait to speak to her later, privately. Yet he was unable to help himself, and he turned to look over his shoulder.

Gelda entered the room, the sight of her stopping his breathing for a moment. Her hair was pulled back into an intricate twist, and Zeldris remembered how he had woven his hands through the blonde locks, pulling apart the braid, the damp waves sliding through his fingers. She wore an elegant dress in a deep rose color, which brought out the slight blush of her cheeks; his mind wandered to the way her skin had flushed as he kissed her, the way she glowed when he stroked her body.

She walked with her hands clasped in front of her, her back straight, her head high and proud. The way a princess, _a queen_ , would walk. Could this be the spoiled, insufferable princess he had taken from Edinburgh? The somber girl resigned to her fate of being sold to a powerful, dangerous king? The woman who had looked at him with soft eyes and thanked him for keeping her safe, who kissed him and wrapped her arms around him and lit a fire inside him that he didn't know was possible?

All eyes were on the princess as she approached, including Zeldris', and the king's. When she neared the dais, she stopped, her eyes demurely to the floor. Gelda then curtsied low, her head bowing in respect; but Zeldris could see the way her neck was strained, and the way her chest rose and fell with her deep breathing.

"Your Highness," the king said. "How wonderful to finally see you myself."

Gelda kept her eyes to the floor as she responded, "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Stand up." The princess rose on his command, and Zeldris turned, his body tense, his hand unknowingly moving towards his sword.

"I hope you found your journey from Edinburgh pleasant enough," the king said.

"Yes, Your Grace," she answered, her eyes still on the floor.

Zeldris clenched his jaw as he watched. This was so unlike the Gelda he knew, his mind was spinning a bit. He had been afraid she would say something the king would not like; but she was the epitome of grace and poise, and the demon found his own nerves calmed.

"And my son?" the king went on. "He conducted himself well, I hope? Zeldris is not often the most gracious of companions, I'm afraid."

The people in the hall tittered a bit at the king's words, but Gelda looked over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met, and Zeldris felt a pang in his chest at the indifference in her eyes. She looked at him with a cool disinterest, something he had never seen before. He would have accepted her scorn, or even her hate; her apathy felt like a blow. "He was an adequate escort," she said as she looked straight at him.

He did not hear what else the king had to say because of the pounding of the blood in his veins, or over the searing in his heart from her words. Their eyes held for another moment, then another; then Gelda turned away, her eyes sweeping sadly back to the floor as she returned her attention to the king. To his father. To her _future husband_. Unable to stand another moment, Zeldris finally turned and fled the room.


	8. A Promised Vow

**Chapter Eight: A Promised Vow**

The hours blended into one another as Gelda went from presentations at the throne room, back to her own chambers, then back to the demon king's side, repeating again and again. The king seemed to have little interest in her except as something to show off to anyone who came to see the ruler. Her years of being trained to do just that, to be _this_ exact thing, paid off handsomely; everyone agreed the vampire princess was beautiful and charming and credit to His Majesty's good taste.

She supposed there were worse fates that could have awaited her in the demon realm.

They had not had any time alone, and for that she was also glad. Gelda had expected their marriage would take place right away, but instead was given two weeks' reprieve. To her astonishment, King Izraf was attending himself, and bringing the riches the king had won personally as a wedding gift. As a royal bride, Gelda had much less to do than she thought she would; other than a couple of fittings for an elaborate dress, she was given no input to the plans for the ceremony. She suspected even the king cared little about such things; if Izraf was not holding the fortune until the ceremony, she very well may have escaped marrying the king altogether. She also assumed the brief respite she found alone in her room would also end after the marriage, or at least decrease significantly, so the princess was grateful for the time she had now.

Gelda shook herself at the sound of her name. She had been finding herself drifting quite a few times since arriving at the palace of the demon king, unable to focus for longer than a few minutes. "Your Highness?" the servant said again, and the princess looked up from her spot at her vanity. "Yes?" Gelda responded.

"Excuse me," the girl said with a curtsey, "but the prince is here to see you."

Her back stiffened suddenly as panic gripped her. Zeldris was here? What could he want? Out of nowhere her emotions flared. The humiliation and hurt from his lie churned viciously with the desire to be with him that still haunted her, and all at once Gelda thought she would be sick. She opened her mouth to tell her to send him away, but all that came out was a choking breath; then a moment later, the door was pushed open and a newcomer walked inside the room.

"I'm sure you did not _intend_ to keep me waiting," said a very cold voice, and Gelda stood, her eyes widening in shock. It was a demon who looked _exactly_ like Zeldris, only his mark was larger, his eyes colder. He had a head full of messy blonde hair, the golden locks falling forward across his face, which was the biggest difference between the two. Other than that, they had the same height, same build, same uniform… even the same mask of stony indifference.

He smirked at Gelda's astonishment and said, "We haven't met yet. I am Meliodas, the oldest son of the king."

She sucked in a breath and nodded. "I see. I'm sorry, Your Highness, I—didn't realize how much you looked like Zeldris."

"It's where the similarities end, I can assure you." The demon crossed his arms and slowly looked her up and down. Gelda was used to men examining her closely, but she felt as though he was seeing _all_ of her, straight into her very soul. It was exactly the way she felt when Zeldris would turn his eyes on her, and she thought that Meliodas was mistaken about how similar they were.

Then the memory of Zeldris' warning about the princes came to mind, and Gelda thought of the rumors that surrounded Meliodas, the captain of the Ten Commandments. Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched him walk closer, feeling pinned under his gaze. She was nearly as unsettled by him as she had been by the demon king. "Can I be of service to you, Your Highness?" she asked quickly.

When they were only a few inches apart, he paused, narrowing his eyes as he peered into hers. She stared back, trying to remain calm. "I just wanted to take a look for myself," he finally responded.

Meliodas' eyes flickered from her hair, to her neck, then down, and she wondered what he was looking for, what he wanted her to say. "If I may," she said, keeping her voice steady, "I must express how happy I am to be marrying—"

"Did Zeldris take good care of you?" the demon interrupted, his stare boring into her.

"I… yes." Gelda swallowed. "His Highness performed his duties well. He is a credit to the king."

Meliodas snorted. "Zeldris has always been one to perform his duties well." Gelda pressed her lips together tightly, wondering if she said something wrong, but then to her surprise, Meliodas held out his arm. "Allow me to escort you downstairs."

Gelda nodded and took the offered arm, walking stiffly next to him as he led her from the room. They did not speak again until they were nearly to the throne room. When the doors came within sight, the demon slowed, and she risked a look over at his face. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said quietly, the nervousness creeping through her again.

His expression was like stone, and suddenly he halted. There was a pause before Meliodas turned to her. He removed her hand from his arm, but held tightly to her wrist, his fingers firm against the pulse beating rapidly under her skin. "I'd like to tell you something as well, Gelda. A bit of advice, if you will."

The princess began to tremble, but managed to nod, hoping that her expression did not betray her uneasiness. "Of course," she breathed.

She had expected him to smile at her, but instead his chin dropped a bit, and he glared at her with thinly veiled malice. "There is a particular way things are done in the demon realm. It would be in your best interest not to disrupt that order."

The fingers against her skin squeezed slightly, causing Gelda to suck in a quick breath. "I don't understand—"

"After all," he continued, "in a few days, you will belong to the king. Then Zeldris won't be able to _protect_ you any longer."

Gelda could not help the little gasp that escaped her then, her heart seizing in her chest. Zeldris' promise to her echoed in her mind— _I'm going to protect you, in the demon realm, when we get there… I'll be there to protect you_ —but she was not so foolish as to believe this is what he was referencing. How did he know about what went on between them? Did Zeldris tell him about their near indiscretion… or did he read it somehow, from her? She tried her very best to remain stoic, to not give the prince _anything_ that he could use against her, any indication of how she felt, or _used_ to feel. Yet her body betrayed her by trembling, and she was mortified to feel the heat flash up her neck and over her face.

"Meliodas!" Zeldris' voice called out to them down the corridor, and Gelda jolted. "What is going on here?"

She could not bear to look, so she squeezed her eyes closed. Meliodas released the pressure on her pulse point, but still gripped her hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb in a caress on her skin. Gelda felt Zeldris approach, and then he was there, standing next to her… but the princess could not bring herself to open her eyes.

"Just escorting the future queen, as you can see," Meliodas answered, the smirk obvious in his voice. "After all, she is _family_ , isn't she, Zeldris?"

"Get your hand off of her." The threat in his voice was just as clear, and Gelda thought her heart would leap right out of her chest. What was he doing? How could he not know? What would she do if one of them attacked?

To her relief, Meliodas let go of her hand. "Don't forget your place, Zeldris," the older brother said, and then he was gone, leaving the two standing alone outside of the closed doors of the throne room.

There was a moment of silence, and Gelda was afraid she would collapse under the pressure of the exchange with Meliodas. But Zeldris gripped her by the elbows, steadying her on her feet even as he peered closely at her. "What did he say to you?" he demanded. "What did he want?"

"He…" She shook her head, trying to clear away the anxiety so she could _think_. "He wanted to… to escort me—"

"Don't be a fool," he bit out harshly, and Gelda's eyes snapped open. It was the first time she had seen him since she was presented to the demon king, and had looked at him over her shoulder, still feeling the sharp sting of betrayal in her heart. His face was drawn into a scowl, projected at her; seeing it flipped a switch inside of her, and her fear turned into anger.

Quickly she jerked backwards, pulling out of his hold. "Why are you here?" she hissed at him.

Zeldris snatched his hands away, bringing his shoulders up as he frowned at her. "We're supposed to report in to the king today," he answered. "What were you doing with _him_?"

The accusing tone was more than Gelda could bear. "I don't answer to you," the princess said. "I don't care if you're the prince or not."

She practically spat the words at him, and Zeldris set his jaw, obviously holding back his own anger. "Gelda, you need to understand what happened—"

"I understand perfectly well," Gelda answered, hating how her voice was high and tight with emotion. She didn't understand, not at _all_ , but the humiliation of finding out he was the king's son felt just as raw, seeing him again. "You used me," she said with reproach.

Her charge was met with silence. The absolute turmoil of it all, beginning from the moment Zeldris had entered her father's hall, leading all the way up until the alarm at being under Meliodas' scrutiny, threatened to boil over in tears that seared in the back of her throat. "I don't ever want to see you again," she whispered, afraid that her voice would betray her.

The demon's face was unchanged as he replied, "That's not going to happen. I promised I would protect you, and I will."

The breath seemed to leave her body all at once at his words. Suddenly she wanted to be in his arms again, to beg him to take her back to that little house, to pull his mouth down on hers in a kiss. She had looked inside of his mind, had _seen_ that he wanted her. But did he love her, or just desire her? Then came another, darker thought: maybe what he wanted was to use her after all, to achieve his other desire of being recognized and validated.

No matter what the reason, it didn't matter. The wedding was in just a few days. Any hope she had of her life with Zeldris would be ending anyway… better it ended before it really even started.

"I don't want your protection," she choked out. Not trusting herself, she turned before he could say another word, and hurried into the throne room to take her place at the king's side.

.o0o.

The night before the wedding, the demon king hosted a lavish affair to start the celebrations. The vampires had arrived, Izraf looking darkly on the king in his throne; but he had paid the respects due the more powerful monarch, presenting him with the fortune promised. When his eyes at laid on Zeldris, the prince had thought for a moment he would actually attack. However, instead he stormed away to sulk, he and the rest sending threatening glares towards him and anyone else who dared to look their way.

It was as if a heavy shroud laid on him the rest of the day, the torment pressing against him from all sides. His normally cold demeanor had turned outright vicious since he had seen Gelda in the hall with his brother earlier in the week, and the demons he encountered scurried out of his way to avoid his wrath. Even his brothers had avoided him, although he doubted that they were afraid of him; more than likely one or both were biding their time until they could pounce.

Sure enough, after dressing in his finest attire, Zeldris made his way down to the great hall only to find his brother Meliodas waiting for him. He regarded the older demon coldly as he approached. From his stance he knew Meliodas wanted to speak to him, so Zeldris waited.

Without any greeting, Meliodas immediately said, "I've been wondering something." Zeldris narrowed his eyes and waited. After a pause, Meliodas continued, "Why is it you took so long to return with the princess, exactly?"

Zeldris raised his chin a bit in a defiant stance. "I already said, the fight with Izraf drained my power. I couldn't—"

"There were many options available. You could have rested immediately. You could have sent a message. You could have gone towards a portal closer to Edinburgh."

Bristling a bit, Zeldris said, "I _was_ on my way to a portal, and I _did_ rest when Monspeet and—"

"And the princess? From what I hear, she arrived in a terrible state. You had her walking for days? Why didn't you fly?"

Meliodas smirked at him through the thick silence. Heat rose up Zeldris' neck as he slowly answered, "What did you expect me to do, carry her here? I didn't think I had enough power to fly. Besides, the princess tried to escape. I couldn't risk her taking off, or getting hurt."

Zeldris clenched his fists as Meliodas began to laugh. "So she was too much for you then? Tell me, Zeldris, do you find all women so difficult, or just this one?" His shoulders tensed almost painfully when he laughed again. "If I didn't know you better, I'd guess you purposefully delayed your return."

His eyes widened from the angry slits to meet Meliodas' own. "Why would I do that?" asked Zeldris darkly.

They stared at each other, and the smile on the older demon's face slowly melted away. "Don't challenge _me_ , brother," Meliodas warned. "Besides, I wouldn't go getting too attached to Her Majesty. These sort of arrangements have a way of not working out."

The threat was clear, and Zeldris surged forward. But his brother moved as well, and was out of reach before he closed the gap. "Don't forget what I said," Meliodas growled, and then disappeared in a flash as he moved quickly from the hall.

Zeldris' first thought was, _I need to get out of here_. If Meliodas suspected his feelings for the princess, it was inevitable that others would too. The more people who talked about it, the more likely word would get back to the king… and even the illusion of betrayal would be enough to have his head. The best thing he could do was to put as much distance between them as he could before his feelings were discovered.

The only problem was, what _were_ his feelings? Zeldris had been trying to figure that out, but the grievous way his lie had been revealed, followed by her harsh words and indifferent gaze before the king, made him push it all aside. He had left, that very hour in fact, and only returned at the king's summons to attend the festivities, an invitation that he could not refuse. Then seeing her again—on the arm of _Meliodas_ , no less—had set his blood on fire for her once more, even with the hurtful and accusing way she spoke to him and scoffed at his offer of protection.

Knowing that Meliodas had some ill intention for her chased away any designs of him leaving. Gelda was in danger as long as she was in the court of the demon king. Zeldris assumed that his brother felt threatened by a new rival for the king's favor… not that he particularly needed it, being the one assumed to take the throne. There were just too many risks now to go, and to leave her here, alone.

Just because he had decided to stay true to his promise, didn't mean he had to enjoy seeing her marry the king. So he turned on his heel and left, storming back to his own place in the castle. For hours Zeldris paced the floor, waiting for a summons or a rebuke from the king to arrive, but none came, for which he was grateful. Yet as the minutes ticked by, his restlessness grew as he wondered how Gelda was getting on. Surely Meliodas would not try to make a move against her within sight of the king? The wedding was now hours away; would his brother try to stop it?

Then a new, horrifying thought occurred: what if the king _wanted_ Gelda gone? He had his treasure now, what did he need a princess for anymore? The anxiety gnawed at him as the night wore on, until he felt he would go mad not knowing the truth, or knowing if she was all right.

Quickly he hurried from his room and rushed back to the celebration. There were people everywhere now: every hall and every room seemed to be filled with people feting the king and his bride and the glory of the demon clan. The affair seemed to be unraveling into something akin to chaos, and Zeldris pushed his way through, looking everywhere for the princess.

Finally he spotted her, and the demon paused to catch his breath in relief. She was still by the king's side, her eyes downward, her manner both docile and graceful, as he was sure she had been taught. Suddenly there was a piercing in his chest as he looked at her and thought of the fierce and impassioned spirit he had known before he ever brought her here, wondering if he would ever see the look in her eyes again. But she was safe at least, and Zeldris would make sure she stayed that way, whether she wanted him to or not.

He watched her for the remainder of the evening, never letting her leave his sight. Never once did that spark return to her expression as Gelda played her part as the obedient and docile princess. Eventually the king finally retired, which allowed the rest of the guests to begin to leave as well, and Zeldris nearly lost sight of her as Gelda made her own hasty retreat.

He caught up with her in the hallway. Her back was straight, her head held high as she exited, and the demon followed a cautious distance behind, not trusting that his brother would not step out to do whatever he had planned. He decided then that he needed to speak with her, before the ceremony the next day, and now would most likely be the last opportunity. She needed to be warned, and to know that Meliodas meant her some harm, somehow… and to explain his own behavior, to tell her the truth of why he kept his status from her, to make her _understand_. Zeldris needed her to trust him before it was too late.

When Gelda approached her own chamber, she paused to dismiss the servants, insisting sternly on being alone. It was only when they were gone did she let go a bit of a sigh, her shoulders sagging as she reached for the door. She paused, then, and looked as though she was thinking; Zeldris used the opportunity to step out from the shadows.

Quietly he approached. The princess did not move, still lost in her own thoughts, so when he was nearly next to her, Zeldris whispered, "Gelda?"

She turned to him then, and the look on her face in the dim light took his breath away. Her eyes were shining, both with sorrow and exhaustion; her lips parted a bit with a shaking breath. Zeldris swallowed, remembering how she had shed tears in the little house when her terror had overwhelmed her. This was ten times worse.

Then, just like before, he moved towards her, and she moved as well; all at once their mouths were sealed against one another, her arms moving tightly around his neck, his own catching her up by the waist. He kissed her hotly, his hands gripping her hard enough he was sure he was hurting her, but he couldn't stop, couldn't get her close enough. She gave a small sound of both pain and need, and Zeldris thought he would never hear enough of her, feel enough of her.

They were inside her room and falling on the bed in an instant. Zeldris tried to pull up, to slow this down enough to get a handle on himself before things spun out of control, but her eager mouth on his and her hands pulling at his clothes dragged him underneath his own desire. He felt her hand sliding up his torso and over his chest, the other grabbing his belt and yanking his hips down against hers; meanwhile, he was kissing her hard, her skin nearly feverishly hot through the fabric of her dress as his hands roamed over her.

Not once did the thought of how wrong this was, how dangerous, cross his mind; never did the weight of his betrayal and his treason dampen the heated lust that flared between them. Zeldris pulled off her clothes as she removed his in turn, and then finally he had her as he had only imagined: breathless and open and reaching for him, _only him_.

Zeldris thought again of slowing down, wanting to stop and take her in and savor her, but Gelda was the one to push him for more. She whispered his name and promises of desire as he used his hands and mouth to claim and mark every inch of her as his own. Somewhere deep inside there was the dark and dangerous reminder pulsing, driving him nearly mad with the idea that she was _not_ his at all, that she would belong to _another_. He felt a frenzy brewing that would match Gelda's own, and before long he pulled his greedy mouth and rough hands from her long enough to push her legs apart and sink inside of her body in one powerful thrust.

She cried out, and the sound froze him instantly. Zeldris was pulled from the haze of passion and he looked down at the princess beneath him, panting and shaking as her body gripped his in nearly a stranglehold. The weight of what he had done, and the realization of what this could mean for both of them struck him like a sudden blow; but then Gelda's arms weaved around him, drawing him down on top of her, her legs wrapping around his thighs and her face pressing against his, so that nearly every inch of their bodies were touching. He could feel that her cheeks were wet with tears, causing a lump to form in his throat.

He shifted his hips, trying to relieve some of the pressure, suddenly afraid he was hurting her. "I'm sorry," he choked out, turning his face to look at hers. Finally, _there_ he saw the fire that Zeldris had been drawn to all this time, and knowing it was for him, because of him, sent a thrilling shiver along his neck.

She caught his face in her hands, and she brought him closer to brush her lips over his before whispering, "I love you." Zeldris could barely breathe, overwhelmed by her, too stunned to move until she rocked her hips upwards and pulled him back to himself.

He kissed away the tears on her face before leaning up, shifting his hips again to slowly slide his body deep inside of her. Gelda gave a sigh of pleasure, her head falling back as she arched up off of the bed; then he was moving, his eyes never leaving her face as he slowly and steadily drove them both towards ecstasy.


	9. The Demon Queen

**Chapter Nine: The Demon Queen**

Gelda sat on the edge of her bed, watching Zeldris hastily move around the room. He pushed her robe towards her once he had left the bed, the room still dark with the sun not yet up. Silently she slid the garment on and pulled the fabric tightly around her.

The prince was also silent, pulling his clothes on with his back to her. Gelda opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , but could not find her voice. The bed was becoming chilled without his presence beside her, and she wished that he would somehow come back to her, pull her down under him or next to him and kiss her until all of this was just a memory. But that was an impossible thought. She was hours away from her wedding. Her bottom lip trembled, and quickly Gelda closed her eyes to hide the emotion that threatened.

 _I will not cry_.

He was standing at the bottom of the bed now, and Gelda could feel his eyes on her. Shaking a bit, she slowly looked up at him. His face was a stoic mask, looking at her as he would a stranger or a subject or someone he expected to forget a moment later. A horrible sort of twinge twisted in the back of her neck, her eyes widening, feeling heavy with the unshed tears. She searched his face while she remembered the way he had looked at her the night before, when she stood frozen outside of her door, when he had said her name, when she had turned to find him standing there looking at her with love and concern and she had felt every last bit of her resolve to keep her heart tightly sealed simply fall away.

Slowly, Zeldris walked around the bed and towards her. She was seized with a sudden fear at his approach. Was he angry? Would he strike her? Did he regret what they had done? Would he leave now and never return?

His face still revealed nothing, even as he stood right next to her, the fabric of his pants brushing against her bare leg draped over the side of the bed. She tilted her head back to look up at him, meeting his stare, and it was so pressing and overwhelming Gelda did not even care when she felt a single tear slide down the side of her face. Then his hand was cradling her face, the pad of his thumb swiping away the tear, and Gelda felt the pressure bearing down on her crack open. She gave a choking gasp, and watched in astonishment as he crouched down in front of her. One hand snaked around her waist and he slid her forward, her hands gripping the bedsheets, her breath catching in confusion and surprise.

Zeldris still gave her the same cold stare. Her heart tightened as her eyes darted back and forth between his, and she tilted away, his presence and his darkness seeming to envelop her completely. But the hand on her back held her firmly in place, their bodies only a scant inch apart.

"Gelda," he said quietly, sternly. "Look inside."

Tentatively she brought shaking hands to cup his cheeks. Gelda closed her eyes, and for a moment, she did not want to see. The image of herself the last time she had looked surfaced in her mind's eye… of course, Zeldris would not know that. He did not know that she had seen his heart's desire already. So if it was different now, he would never realize she _knew_ it was different.

He said her name again, and Gelda breathed out as she pushed her power forward. There was no wall this time, no barrier, nothing to keep her from seeing inside his heart. The tears that had hovered just on the corners of her eyes threatened again, and she willed them back. Then the image came, clear as crystal: it was this, or a moment just like this, the two of them with their arms around one another. The desires she had found last time were gone, with only faint wisps remaining; impressions that told her his wish for purpose and recognition had been met. The last vision of herself was gone, as well. Last time, she had been just a fantasy in his mind. Now the desire for her was so real and solid Gelda thought if she could reach her hand out, she would feel warm flesh under her fingertips.

"Do you see?" he asked, pulling her away from the picture. Gelda returned to her own mind, and when she opened her eyes again she could barely see through the watery tears that filled them. She nodded as she brushed her fingertips down the sides of his face. Zeldris never turned his gaze away, his eyes still revealing nothing, not even a scrap of the desire for her that he had allowed her to see.

Gelda found herself suddenly overwhelmed by his gift to her, his _trust_ in her, and she leaned forward to press her forehead on his. "Now you know," he said, his voice cool, almost aloof, even as his fingers on her back clenched ever so slightly.

"Yes, I…" She cursed herself as her voice faltered. Couldn't she be strong, for him? But that lasted only a moment before his mouth brushed on hers, and then she was melting against him, falling softly into his kiss.

Too soon he was pulling away, but Gelda put her arms tight around his neck, holding him firmly against her. She kissed him purposefully, with no hesitation, her lips hard and steady on his. To her relief, he remained still, allowing her to hold him as closely as she needed. Several more moments passed before Gelda felt that she could let go.

By the time she sat back, her unshed tears were gone, and Gelda was able to meet his eyes without feeling as though she would be overcome with the twisting ache that had filled her since they woke. Her gaze was steady as she felt determination slowly filling her, all the while looking in Zeldris' eyes. The tiniest ghost of a smile swept over his mouth, there and gone so fast she could have easily imagined it; then he nodded and stood, walking out of the room without another word.

The new resolve allowed Gelda to endure the flurry of activity that surrounded her the rest of the day. Every person that arrived with another jewel or bolt of fabric, every set of hands that dressed her or twisted her hair or clasped another ornament on her was met with the resigned and dispassionate princess. No one knew that with every moment she was picturing the heart's desire she saw inside Zeldris, and holding fast to the strength it gave her. She moved through the day emotionless, slipping easily into the persona of the silent and passive princess, born to serve a great ruler. Gelda smiled and said thank you and treated everyone around her with grace, as she had been bred and taught to do.

Only once did Gelda feel as though she might falter. When the ceremony began, and she entered the throne room to take her place beside the demon king, she spotted Zeldris in the crowd. His eyes were on her, the same firm expression on his face from that morning, and she could not help but remember the feel of his kiss or the warm skin of his cheek. Gelda was suddenly nervous being under his stare, and her own eyes darted forward before she could break down.

Yet as she came under the pressing gaze of the demon king, her nerves steadied. She could feel Zeldris behind her, and somehow it gave her a calming strength. After all, none of this mattered in the end. Gelda did not care about the demons, or the vampires, the king or this marriage or her title, the charade of this marriage or the performance demanded of her as an obedient queen. Every part of her life had led up to this moment, and yet, none of it was of any consequence to her. It was freeing, really, to be able to admit that, to let go of what she had thought that she wanted all this time; and it gave her the presence of mind to face the demon king and not wither under his shadow.

Afterwards, Gelda did not see any of the princes, but she knew Zeldris watched her. He had promised to keep her safe, after all, and she believed him without question. At one point, she saw her father, who spoke to her with a scorn never directed at her before. As if _Gelda_ had chosen this marriage, as if _she_ had made that ridiculous pledge to give half of the kingdom's wealth to whoever could best him in combat. But Gelda only returned an indifferent stare to the vampire king, and he left without speaking to her again.

The rest of the day was interminable, as she stood or sat silently while receiving congratulations and wishes on their union. Then, when the king took her back to his room, her courage faltered. Being alone with him, out of the reach of Zeldris' protection, his eyes on her as she undressed for him, his hands on her as he pressed her beneath him, nearly proved too much. Gelda closed her eyes and pictured the vision she had captured from Zeldris' heart, and she remembered: none of this mattered. She endured the weight of him on top of her, his rough hands and harsh commands and the careless way he thrust inside of her, his cruel laugh and the twisting way he said her name. Gelda was queen now, and she would perform her duty and fulfill the vows she made, because in her heart, it had no meaning.

When he was finished, Gelda was dismissed. The king watched her with satisfaction as she replaced the wedding dress on her body and bowed deeply before exiting his chamber. She was amazed to find that she felt no pain, or sorrow, or even disgust. Gelda may not have been at peace with her choice, or wanted this life anymore, now that it was hers. But she would do it to save Zeldris and keep their secret safe. She had survived. They would _both_ survive.

As she walked back to her room, the castle quiet and empty in the pre-dawn hour, Gelda's thoughts immediately returned to Zeldris. She had seen him in the crowd at the ceremony, but lost track of him afterwards. Did he leave? Was he even still in the castle? _He has to be here. He promised to protect you_.

Is that what she wanted? Gelda pondered this as she weaved her way through the corridor. Did she want Zeldris to stay, watching over her? It would be torture, certainly, for him to be so close by, and yet out of reach. How could she look at him every day and not think about what had happened between them? Gelda wanted to forget almost as desperately as she wanted to remember. Giving her body to him had seemed like a way to make a connection between them that could never be broken. She needed that moment with him.

But then she had confessed her feelings to him. An unexpected moment, one she could never take back. And he hadn't responded. He hadn't said a single word.

Gelda wrapped her arms around herself, her head bowing and her eyes on the floor as she neared the door of her room. It didn't matter now anyway. Just as she cared nothing for her new title and position, her new husband and master, her new _life_ , she cared nothing for the feelings she felt for the demon prince. It did not matter because now she belonged to the king, and he would never want her now. He would never whisper those words back to her, no matter _what_ she saw inside his heart.

Zeldris was waiting in her room when she arrived, a sight she had not permitted herself to even hope to find. Gelda froze in shock to see him there, her body beginning to tremble at the cold passivity on his face. There was a long moment when neither spoke, and she thought that her heart would burst from her chest, it was beating so hard.

"Gelda," he finally said, "I've been—"

"Why are you here?" she whispered.

Something passed over his eyes for a brief moment. "I wanted to see if you were all right."

It felt as though there was a sudden weight on her chest as she took her next breath. "I am."

Zeldris nodded. "I knew you would be." He stepped towards her then, and Gelda could see faint signs of exhaustion in his eyes, little things that only she noticed now. Her brows bent down slightly. Had he slept? They had shared only a few brief hours the night before, and now it was nearing dawn again… had Zeldris stayed here, waiting for her all night?

"You looked—strong—today." Gelda blinked in surprise at his stuttered words. Briefly she glanced down at her disheveled appearance, the dress now dull, her jewels gone. The disconnect between being called _strong_ as she slunk back to her own room in this state made her blush with hot shame. But despite the cool way he regarded her, Gelda saw no reproach, or disgust, or even disapproval, and because of that she forced herself to remain steady as she responded, "Thank you."

He nodded again, the atmosphere suddenly awkward now. Then he walked past her, his body brushing against her as he passed by on his way to the door. Gelda heard the click of the handle, and suddenly she turned and called, "Zeldris, wait!"

He paused, turning back, and she opened her mouth to speak; but no words came, not knowing what to say, what to ask for, even she could or even should.

Then, incredibly, the coldness in his eyes was gone as his face softened. She reached out for him, knowing it was wrong. She could not ask this of him. She did not _want_ to ask.

But Zeldris moved towards her, and his hands went into her hair and around her back and Gelda found herself pulled into a tight embrace against him. She pressed her face against his, as he bent his head and kissed her neck. Her fingers gripped the back of his shirt tightly as she tried desperately to be the strong princess— _the queen now_ —he admired so much. When she closed her eyes, instead of seeing them together, now all she could see was the demon king. Having Zeldris so close was making her determination to fulfill her duties seem more and more impossible. She wished he would just leave her, wished she could tell him to go, even as she trembled in his arms, even as she clung to him with a tight grip.

Suddenly it became too much and Gelda sagged against him, the energy in her body fleeing as she became weightless. Zeldris caught her up in his arms, and carefully carried her across the room. For a moment she was scared he was taking her to bed—which confused her even more. All she wanted was for Zeldris to move on top of her again, to kiss her again until she forgot everything else but the taste and feel of him; however, she was too raw and exposed in this moment, afraid of what would happen to her heart if he did. And Gelda knew she would _not_ say no.

Instead, he carried her to the washroom, setting her down carefully on the side of the bathtub. Then Zeldris moved around the room, carrying a basin of water and a fresh towel and soap. He looked unsure of what to do, which was something Gelda had never thought she would see. His hands reached out towards the hated dress, as if to pull it off of her form; then he thought better of it, and turned and left instead.

It was so unexpected, that for a moment, Gelda simply sat on the edge of the tub unmoving, before finally taking off the dress. Slowly she washed herself, shivering a bit from the cool water, but it felt refreshing at the same time, and somehow soothing. After she had finished and dried, there was a long gown hanging for her, which she slipped on just as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She almost laughed at how different her reflection was now from that of the queen: no silk, no jewels, no commanding expression. Only a very tired and empty girl looked back, small marks on her neck and chest starting to rise against her pale skin.

Brief embarrassment flared, not wanting Zeldris to see. But what was the use of hiding? So she returned to the bedroom to find him still there, sitting on the bed. He had removed his shoes and formal clothes, now looking dressed for bed, and Gelda's shoulders sagged with a bit of relief. She was still nervous that he would want to have her right then; but as she climbed onto the bed, he pulled her until she was positioned across him, her legs entwined with his, her hands against his chest as her head rested on his shoulder.

It was quiet, and peaceful, and Gelda closed her eyes and sighed. Her body was heavy with fatigue and sorrow. Zeldris kissed her brow, and then her cheek, and then pressed his face into her neck, breathing deeply in and out.

"I can smell him on you," he murmured, his voice rough with measured emotion.

Gelda's stomach dropped, her muscles seizing for a moment. This was _not_ supposed to be, but the way Zeldris' voice caught in his throat made her say, "I won't—I won't go to him again—I _can't_ —"

"You will," he said firmly, his mouth pressing against the side of her hair. "You have to."

She winced, shaking her head slightly. "I can't. Don't you understand?"

"I'm sorry," he answered. "I should have stopped this. I could have stopped this."

Gelda shook her head again. "You know what would have happened." She turned towards him and kissed his cheek. "What could _still_ happen."

"Gelda, I—" He stopped, pressing his lips together, his eyes searching her face. The hand in her hair slid through the strands as Zeldris said, "I want you. I love you."

She had thought that, in this moment, his words would inflame their desire; when her thoughts of Zeldris had lingered on the fantasy of him saying that he loved her, she saw them locked in a passionate embrace. Instead, his words hung for a moment before settling between them, and Gelda's heart felt calmed instead of excited, her emotions soothed instead of ignited. The vampire quickly pressed into his own heart, and found him, incredibly, just as content as she. Rather than a lustful kiss, she gently brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth; there were no words of promised passion, only the quiet, solemn feeling that they had made their own vow, more real than the ones she had repeated hours before. Gelda relaxed contentedly against him, locked in his arms.

.o0o.

Weeks went by, and what started as a carefully guarded affection between the two intensified into a burning affair. The Demon King had sent for Gelda several times since the night of their wedding. Sometimes she sat in presentation by his side in the throne room, a pretty trophy much the way she had been shown off by her father. The vampire did not mind this much; it was much preferable to the nights when she would be awoken by a soft knock at the door, a servant sent to fetch her in the middle of the night to go and perform her other duty as queen.

Whenever the knock would come, Gelda's heart would seize, afraid that a careless servant would enter before being called to discover Zeldris in her bed. It was dangerous for him to stay with her at night, they _both_ knew this. However, they had found it impossible to spend the night apart. The first together had been quiet, and they slept in each other's arms, sharing just a few slow kisses here or there. Then over the next few nights, the attraction between them grew as their hands and mouths grew bolder, until finally they joined together in a heated passion that was more fiery than the first time they were together.

They swore it would be the last time, every time. Each stolen kiss in a darkened corner in a hallway, each whispered "I love you" as they caressed each other's bodies, each time they undressed, each sigh and shudder and scream of passion was supposed to be the last. In the end, it was always inevitable that they would find one another again, their connection too sharp, the need for one another growing stronger instead of satisfied.

And the nights, too, when they would lay entwined around one another, or sat huddled together on the carpet, were filled with moments that Gelda could never have imagined all those days and weeks ago, when he had sneered at her outside of Edinburgh Castle, when he had placed the spell on her and mocked her and threw her beneath him when she had tried to use her powers on him. They shared stories of their upbringing, discovering even more similarities than they had ever imagined, and learned about each other's clans and powers and the expectation their own had for them. When Zeldris shared something with her, Gelda found herself getting lost in his voice and the intensified way he seemed to speak about everything, whether it was his work as a soldier or his brothers or even an anecdote from his youth. Not that there were terribly many; Gelda learned quickly to savor the rare laugh that came from the seemingly aloof prince, to memorize his infrequent smiles.

But when that knock would come… sometimes it was worse than a knife in her heart, being yanked back into the reality of their lives.

On those nights, Zeldris would watch her leave, a pit growing in his stomach. He cursed himself for being such a fool. This affair had to stop. His _obsession_ had to stop. This was going to get them both killed.

The door clicked shut as Gelda left, and for a while Zeldris sat on the bed, staring blankly out at the dark night. Normally he would be moving with a unit, or if he had no orders to fill, perhaps out hunting with his brothers, looking for goddesses or the enemy to kill. He was never one to stay about the castle; not like Estarossa, who enjoyed playing games of alliances in the court, or Meliodas, who fed off of the fear of the demons in his presence. Zeldris needed to move, to go and prove himself, to show the king he was worthy of his title as prince and his place as his son.

When had that stopped being important? Zeldris had not even noticed the change in himself until it was too late.

No longer interested in his rank or position, not even caring about his father's opinion, had left Zeldris free to pursue what he truly wanted: Gelda. Having his father's scrutiny off of him had proved valuable, in fact, because it allowed him to keep from being assigned elsewhere. He subtly followed Gelda during the days, still not trusting her safety to anyone else, especially where Meliodas was concerned. The demon kept himself away from the notice of the king, for the first time in his life.

The notice of the king… now the king had a new plaything to focus on, and sitting in the bed he had just shared with Gelda began to make his skin crawl. He figured it would probably be a couple of hours before she returned—Zeldris swallowed thickly at the thought—so he quickly dressed and left, wanting to clear his head.

There had to be a way out of this, a solution he hadn't seen before. The prince walked through the castle towards his own rooms, which had been neglected as of late. The late hour had left the hallways rather deserted, and he gave the king's wing a wide berth as he walked and thought. If this had been another time, another life, another path, he would have taken her for his wife already. He still would, if there was even any possible way… their quiet promises to one another when they were alone were already more than enough for him. But he was a demon prince and third in line for the most powerful throne in Britannia. He wanted to give Gelda that life.

But would she take it, if he could offer it? Momentary doubt flashed through him. Zeldris assumed she would, but she was queen now… would she want him, a prince without a kingdom of his own?

 _Nonsense_ , he cursed at himself. He had to have faith in Gelda. She was his world now, and he had to trust that she felt the same about him.

Zeldris continued his walk, trying to work out a solution to his relationship with Gelda. There was none that he could see, unless the king himself was gone. But _that_ would never happen, and Zeldris was more than aware of how he had already committed enough treason. Entertaining these thoughts was a dangerous game.

The agitation under his skin was growing as one scenario after another tumbled in his imagination, only to dismiss it as impossible. Finally, he decided to go in search of one of his brothers. Hopefully one or both of them would pick a fight with him, and allow him to blow off some steam through a sparring match. Hurting something and drawing some blood seemed incredibly appealing at the moment.

It was proving difficult to find them, however, and eventually he went to the office of the guard, to see if they knew where they were. It was there that Zeldris discovered some startling news: Meliodas was gone, and Estarossa had been sent to fetch him.

Zeldris shook his head, not wanting to believe it, _unable_ to believe it. Meliodas was gone? No one seemed to know where or why. He stalked back towards his own chambers again, wanting to change and get his weapons. Gelda would understand, he was sure of it. If Meliodas was gone, it could mean only one of two things: either he was killed or captured—which was impossible—or he had chosen to desert the demon clan.

Quickly he put on a fresh uniform, feeling as though he was shedding this new version of him that had taken over during these last weeks with Gelda in the castle as he removed his clothing, replacing it with his uniform and his soldier persona. His hands twitched with the familiar feel of his weapon and the smooth leather of his belt under his fingertips. The turbulence in his mind settled as the soldier and hunter inside of him took over.

There was a determination that filled him. If someone took Meliodas, had _killed_ Meliodas, then they would be found. Justice would be dealt, slowly, painfully, and the demon power inside of him pulsed delightedly as he thought of taking pleasure in ripping the person to shreds. Not for Meliodas' sake necessarily; his oldest brother was tiresome at best and dangerous at his worst. But the audacity of anyone _daring_ to touch a member of his race, a member of his family, let alone the next in line to the throne…

And if the opposite was true? If Meliodas had _betrayed_ them, and left his role in the demon realm, then Zeldris would find him. He smiled to himself as he thought of dragging the blonde in chains back to the castle, of handing him over to his father for punishment. Perhaps the king would allow him to give the final blow himself, a gift to his son for delivering the traitor.

Zeldris flung open the door to his room, ready to head out, only to find a page about to knock on the wood. The young boy was startled to see the prince, his terrified eyes widening at Zeldris, who was an intimidating sight with his uniform and weapons. "What?" the demon practically shouted at him after a long moment.

"S-sir! I-I bring a m-message!" the page squeaked. Quickly he bowed low, the shock wearing off, and said, "The king wishes to see you immediately, in his chambers!"

"The king?" Color drained from Zeldris' face. What could he possibly want with him, now? Did it have something to do with Meliodas? Zeldris pursed his lips, annoyed that he did not have more information. He would look like a _fool_ in front of his father. How could he not have known that the most fearsome demon in the world was _missing_?

Of course, he knew _why_. It was Gelda who had filled his thoughts and his days for weeks now, not his duty or his job or anything else at all. Not his brothers, or his clan, or the looming war. Not even the command of the king himself. It was the vampire girl, his princess, now his queen, that had taken up every moment.

Then all at once, Zeldris remembered that Gelda was now, at _that_ moment, also in the king's chamber.

Zeldris pushed past the page and hurried down the hallway. They were discovered, for sure. Did he hurt her? Had he pulled the confession from her? The prince was glad he had his weapon, sure he would make use of it. He would not survive a fight with the king, had no _hope_ of killing him, but if he could just hold him off, Gelda could make her own escape.

With that thought in mind, the _only_ thought, he entered the king's room. Quickly his eyes swept the dimly lit chamber for the queen, but she was not there. He needed to find her, get her out of there and away from—

"My son!" the demon king boomed. "You came much quicker this time. This pleases me."

Slowly Zeldris turned around. The king stood on the far side of the room, bent over a table covered in papers and a large map. He was dressed in more casual clothing than Zeldris was used to seeing, over it a large and sumptuous robe. It reminded him once more that the king was probably just out of bed, and he shuddered to himself to think of what he had been doing there.

"You called for me, Sire," he answered. Zeldris gave a bow, using the opportunity to check the room once more. As subtly as he could, he pushed his powers out, trying to feel for Gelda's presence. But it was not there, and a lump formed in his throat as to what that could mean.

"Meliodas is missing," the king responded gravely.

"Yes, I heard," said Zeldris. "I was just about—"

"This is terrible news for our clan," his father continued. "I want Meliodas back. I want him _here_."

Zeldris nodded. "I will do everything in my power to aid the search."

The king laughed, a sickening sound he had heard countless times before. The tone meant that Zeldris had made a mistake, had said something wrong. It was meant derisively, and the prince clenched his jaw with tension. "We have new intelligence. There's no need to search. We know where your brother is." The king pointed to the map. "Here, outside of the Forest of the Fairy King, there is a camp that is holding thousands of our kind as hostages. Even children are among those who have been captured. The army is assembling to make an assault and free them."

With a sigh of relief, Zeldris said, "Tell me where and I will get him for you. I will kill anyone who dared touch your son."

The king simply shook his head. "Don't be a fool, Zeldris," he snapped harshly. "Do you really think any of the other clans could touch him? That Meliodas would allow himself to be taken?" He snorted, leafing through another paper on the table. "No, Meliodas is with the other clans. They have formed an alliance against us, and he is a part of that alliance."

"Traitor!" Zeldris shouted. The news caused him to shake with anger. It made sense, he _himself_ had supposed it was the only possible answer, but to hear it said aloud by the king inspired a hatred he had never experienced before. Suddenly he wanted Meliodas' blood.

Through the red haze, Zeldris saw his father look up, and give him a small smile. It was the first time this had happened, and if he hadn't already been filled with such a thirst for revenge, then he would have perhaps been taken aback. "I am glad to see your love for me outweighs any love you have for your brother."

"I serve you, my king," Zeldris answered, the words clipped. He was unable to stop himself from asking, "But why? Why would he betray us?"

"For a woman," the king answered. Zeldris looked at him in shock. "He has fallen in _love_. With a goddess, of all things."

All at once, the prince felt ill. Meliodas had abandoned the king for a woman? Zeldris cleared his throat uncomfortably; the irony tasted bitter in his mouth. Somehow his oldest brother had made this even _more_ dangerous for him and Gelda. If the king had been betrayed by one son for love, then what would he do when a second deception was discovered? The old hostility that had become his life for so long swelled. Even in this, _his own sins_ , he was outdone by his brother.

"I have selected you, Zeldris, to take Meliodas' place in my Ten Commandments."

"Me?" Suddenly the fury was gone, replaced with a swell of astonishment. "You want _me_ to—"

"You will be given the Commandment of Piety," said the king. "In this, you will obey me in all things. And so will others serve you, as you will be my proxy. If anyone disobeys your command, even if they turn their back on you, then they will become your slave, and in turn, mine."

Zeldris nodded, unable to speak. This was it, his chance he had been waiting for for years. His training and service had finally paid off, and his heart thudded in his chest with the pride of this moment.

The king gestured him forward, and the prince stepped up to him and knelt. There was a hand on his shoulder, and then a scorching heat that filled him as the king's power and command entered his body. Suddenly Zeldris felt more powerful than he had ever before, and the thought thrilled him. With this Commandment, he would lay waste to the other clans. He would bring Britannia under his father's rule. He would be raised up as a favored son.

Something pricked in his mind, but Zeldris brushed the slight uneasiness away. This was too exciting and thrilling to stop and wonder what could be off, and he quickly said, "Command me, my king."

To his satisfaction, instead of his harsh and jeering laugh, the king simply nodded. "You will go tomorrow, when the sun is at its peak, and you will destroy Edinburgh."

"Destroy Edinburgh?" Zeldris answered, incredulous. "I thought you wanted me to retrieve Meliodas for your judgment."

"Those plans are already in place. Even now, my Commandments are heading towards the forest." The king give him a disdainful look. "You could have been a part of those plans if you hadn't been busy doing whatever it is you have been doing." Then he waved his hand dismissively. "No matter. I want the vampires gone. Izraf has already spoken out against me, angry for marrying his daughter and taking his wealth. As if _he_ had not made the ridiculous offer." The king laughed humorlessly. "The other clans have already allied themselves, I don't want the vampires to decide to join their side. Besides, with them gone I can lay claim to the rest of their wealth. I'll need it for the coming war."

Zeldris swallowed uncomfortably. As the king spoke, his thoughts had gone immediately to Gelda. He still didn't know where she was, if she was safe or not. The opportunity to become the Commandment of Piety and the news of his brother had shifted his focus away from her. He shook his head to clear it. What would she say, if she knew he was going to destroy her clan?

"As you command," he managed to say. Zeldris bowed again and turned to leave. He needed to find Gelda first. But before he could leave, the king said, "Zeldris, when you get rid of the vampires, make sure that that queen of mine is one of them."

For a moment, he froze, filled with horror. Then he whirled back, trying desperately to claw a hold on his emotions as he choked out, "The queen?"

Coldly, the king met his gaze. "She is an obedient enough girl, I suppose, but I have no use for her. I was delivered my fortune, and although she has been _somewhat_ entertaining—" and here the king gave a chuckle that turned Zeldris' blood to ice— "there is really no point to my keeping her."

"Keeping her?" Zeldris hissed. "She—she's the queen, not one of your possessions."

The king frowned at him, drawing himself up suddenly in a way that made Zeldris instinctively step back. "Are you challenging my command?" he asked, his voice low and filled with promised violence. The room turned electric as the demon's energy flared out, the dark power pouring out, choking the room with a sinister, overwhelming energy. Zeldris felt as though it would consume him whole, that his death was a moment away, and he tensed, waiting for the blow that would surely end him. "I would remind you that _you_ are also bound by your Commandment. If you do not follow my order, or speak of this to anyone else, then _you_ will become the slave."

Then the feeling vanished, and the king said, almost pleasantly, "I hope we have an understanding, my son."

He turned away in clear dismissal. Zeldris stood watching for another moment before leaving, heading out to obey the king's command.


	10. A Final Choice

**Chapter Ten: A Final Choice**

Zeldris found Gelda relaxing in the tub in her washroom when he returned. "I wondered where you went to," she said sleepily. She smiled up at him as he stood by her, his arms folded. "Do you want to come in? The water is still warm."

"Where were you?" he asked, his tone clipped with annoyance. He drew his brows down as her eyes widened a bit.

"I was with the king," she said softly, a blush rising on her cheeks. "You knew that." He turned away, his jaw clenching with emotion, and heard her say behind him, "What's wrong?"

The prince did not answer, turning and walking out of the washroom. He stalked towards the window, peering out into the night. Sunrise was still a few hours away, meaning he still had time before he was due in Edinburgh. There was still time to figure out what to do.

He could hear Gelda moving in the room next door, and Zeldris turned his back to the door. His arms shook with the tension inside of him, the fear and dread of what he had to do churning in his chest and stomach. Blood pulsed behind his temples. His mind raced as he tried to think of something, _anything_ , to do.

If he disobeyed the order, he would become a mindless slave, and be killed. But if he fulfilled the command…

Gelda's hand slid over his tightly folded arms, making him flinch. "Zeldris?" she asked tentatively. "What's wrong?"

He glanced over at her, the worry on her face piercing like a knife in his chest. Quickly he snapped his gaze away. "My brother is missing," he bit out.

"Which one?" she asked.

"Meliodas," responded the demon, noting the little gasp that escaped her. "He's abandoned us and joined the alliance of the other clans."

Her hand slid along his elbow, moving up to slide behind his shoulder. "But… why?" she whispered.

Zeldris turned and looked at her, opening his mouth to say _he fell in love_. But it suddenly seemed so ludicrous, and the parallel between the two was still raw. So instead, he told her, "I'm leaving tomorrow. I've been given orders."

Gelda's fingers dug into him momentarily before she nodded, blinking rapidly. "I understand," she said quietly. "This was bound to happen. We could not expect you to remain at the castle forever." She sighed. "When will you be back?"

"Never," he replied.

She made a strangled sort of gasp that sent the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "What do you mean?" she cried.

His gaze remained steady on her, the cool expression he had mastered over decades of practice. "I have my orders. I've been made a member of the Ten Commandments, and I need to go."

Gelda sucked in a shaking breath, tears shimmering in her eyes. "Are you saying… we are never…"

"I have to go." Zeldris turned and pulled away from the grip she had on him. He needed time to think of a way out of this, how he could save them both, and Gelda's tears would only prove a distraction. He prayed she would forgive him for leaving her so suddenly, but when he reached the door, she was right there to stop him. "Wait!" she cried. "Please, just wait!"

He hesitated, and Gelda used the moment to put herself in between Zeldris and the door. "Please, just tell me what's wrong. I know something is wrong." Her arms went around him, and she pulled him into a tight embrace. "Please tell me what's happening."

"I can't," he bit out bitterly. His hands went to her waist, but she only gripped him harder. "Gelda, let go of me."

"No," she snapped. Gelda kissed his lips before pressing her cheek on his. "Why won't you be back? What is going on?"

Zeldris swallowed. His hands shook as he slowly slid them from her waist and around her back. If only he could tell her! He did not want to lie to her, knowing it would make everything worse. He had lied to her once and swore never to do that again. Zeldris knew he needed to get away from her, as it was the only way not to draw this pain out any longer than necessary. Of course, Gelda would not be feeling any pain much longer, when he eradicated the vampire clan…

But instead of pushing her away, as he _ought_ to do, he pulled her up against him, his embrace crushing as he pressed his face into her shoulder. How could he go through with this? Gelda whispered his name, the fear clear in her voice, and he struggled to keep his breathing even. If he was smart, he would hurt her, and break this off before he could betray her. But the way her fingers wove in his hair and the way she kissed his jaw comfortingly made it impossible.

All at once he pushed her forward, pressing her against the door as his mouth descended on hers. He kissed her hard, pouring his love for her and the pain of his choices into the way his lips stroked hers. Gelda was frozen, caught by his body, and she whimpered slightly when his tongue pressed uncaringly into her mouth. But he was relentless, and she tried her best to meet his kiss even as it left her breathless.

She was wearing only a bathrobe, and his hands snaked around from her back to quickly undo the ties. Then they were moving over her skin, still damp from the bath, leaving a scorching trail over her hips and up her waist. Zeldris cupped her breasts, squeezing her flesh as he pressed one leg between her thighs, and Gelda finally broke the kiss with a yelp of surprise. He ignored her startled protest as his mouth slid down her neck, pressing a kiss at the hollow of her throat. "Zeldris? What-?" she gasped, her nails scraping on the back of his neck, the other hand pressing against his arm.

"Take off your robe," he commanded. He watched as she swallowed visibly, and then quickly dropped the garment to the ground, her breath catching at his sudden change in demeanor.

Zeldris drew himself up, pulling her against him, then kissed her again. It was more careful this time, as he wanted to savor her, remember the taste of her mouth and the feel of her soft lips, every cry from her throat and shiver of her body. Her lips parted for him, and his hands pressed against her bare back before sliding down to grip her backside. Gelda slipped her arms around his neck before pressing forward against him.

He gripped her by the thighs and lifted her up, pinning her body against the door. "Zeldris!" she gasped, but again he ignored her to move her mouth down her chest. The need for her was fast and brutal, and he shifted his hips just long enough to bring a hand between her legs. His body kept her pinned, his other hand holding her leg tightly against his waist, and he began to stroke her body. His blood thrummed inside his head as the room filled with her soft cries, the sound blocking out the words of his father's command, the feel of her squirming against him driving away the reality he was trying to escape. Somewhere inside of him, he was ordering himself to _stop_ , but that was impossible. Gelda was going to be gone from his life in just a few hours' time; he needed to consume her, to brand his mind with the memory of her, _now_.

Moments later he was tossing her on the bed, climbing over her. Zeldris still wore his uniform, in too much of a frenzy to stop and remove it; but the sight of her bare flesh pressed against the fabric, the leather of his belt and the studs in his shirt scraping against her thrilled him. She was shaking, whether it was with need or with nervousness or a combination he could not tell. Zeldris wanted to stop, he _had_ to stop. This was Gelda, the woman he loved, not someone to be thrown and taken in a frenzy; never in all their weeks together had he used her or taken what he wanted like this. But the urgency and passion and loss were bearing down on him at once, pounding as he pulled her legs apart, growing thicker as he tasted her.

Her hands pressed against his shoulders to slow him down. "Zeldris, please, please," she groaned. He paused at her pleading tone, and looked up to see her face etched with concern before sliding up her body to cover her with his. Gelda's eyes were shining, and tentatively she brought a hand up to caress his cheek.

"Is this really goodbye?" she whispered, the soft sound trembling as she panted. "Am I—will I really never see you again?"

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. How could he answer such a question? Zeldris was mortified to feel hot tears forming behind his eyes, and quickly he swallowed and looked away in an effort to will them back.

But Gelda must have seen, must have understood, because slowly she caressed his face. Her fingers traced through the bangs that hung down, then over his forehead, tensed with worry, then down his cheeks, brushing over his jaw before finally trailing across his lips. It was if she was memorizing every inch of him, and when his eyes returned to hers, he saw that the fear and anxiety was gone, replaced only by tenderness. "Do you love me?" she asked.

Zeldris nodded, and her thumbs brushed over his eyes. "Then please, just love me," Gelda whispered.

He kissed her then, the passion between them igniting fiercely. Gelda arched underneath him, her legs entwining around his waist; then she was pressing her hands on him, and Zeldris allowed her to push him onto his back. He sank into the mattress as she climbed over him, her hands frenzied as she opened the front of his pants, her mouth hungry on his. Then she was sinking onto his hard length, wrapping him in her heat, and his hands caught her by the hips, guiding her on top of him.

Their joining was raw, almost rough, as they sped rapidly towards their release; the hurried passion between them made the air itself thick and hot with the sounds of their moaning. Gelda let go a cry as she came undone, her hands grasping his chest desperately, and Zeldris thrust himself up, the threads of his control snapping as he emptied inside of her for what he knew would be the last time.

His hands gripped her by the arms and yanked her down on top of him, cradling her body on his even as the last waves of pleasure pulsed through his own. "Gelda," he groaned, his face pressed against her hair, and he breathed in the delicate scent of her, wanting every piece of her, needing every one of his senses filled with her. Her arms slid beneath his shoulders, and for several minutes, they lay there, not moving. Zeldris could feel his neck getting wet as she cried quietly, and his heart felt as though it was being squeezed through a vise, his body shaking with the torment that was to come.

"You'll never be really gone," she choked through her tears, her voice muffled as she pressed against him. "No matter where you go, you won't be gone from me."

Zeldris weaved a hand through her hair, holding her closely. He needed to tell her the truth, but how? If he uttered one word about the king's command, he would be finished. It was bad enough he had to destroy the vampire clan, and kill her; the betrayal of the lie would be—

Suddenly he was seized with a thought. The king had said he wanted the vampires _gone_. Not dead. _Edinburgh_ was to be destroyed, but the vampires he commanded to be _gone_. Zeldris' mind whirled as a plan formed, and he tightened his arms around the woman still draped on top of him. But could he do it? His powers were expanding with his Commandment, he could feel it under his skin. If he used the right spell, then perhaps…

"Gelda," he whispered. "I want you to come with me tomorrow, to Edinburgh."

"Edinburgh?!" she exclaimed, pulling up to look down at him. "What—how would we—the king—"

"Trust me," he said fiercely, raising a hand to cup her cheek. "Please."

Her eyes searched his face, and then slowly she nodded. Zeldris leaned up to catch her mouth in a kiss, dragging them back under a heavy shroud of passion that continued until the sun rose on their last day together.

.o0o.

Gelda was filled with trepidation laying eyes on Edinburgh castle again. The past twelve hours had been a whirlwind of sorrow and confusion, and her courage was hanging by a thread, worn thin by her nerves. She had not seen her father or the others in weeks, not since the wedding, and had no idea what her reception would be. "Can you please tell me what we are doing here?" she asked the prince for the hundredth time as he led her firmly through the great entrance.

For the hundredth time, he ignored her, and Gelda followed silently. A guard stopped them just inside, and Zeldris glared at him viciously. "Get back," he commanded, a tone she recognized from months ago when he had first taken her through Britannia. "I have the queen of demons on a visit to her father, King Izraf."

 _Is that really why we are here?_ It couldn't be, but Gelda kept her demeanor cool, following his lead. The guard was intimidated by the prince's voice and the power that seemed to rise off of him, and stood aside to let them pass.

"Gelda," he hissed as they walked quickly through the main hall, "where can we go that is safe?"

"I don't know," she answered. "My father has a—a mirror. He can see _everything_ —"

"Stop right there!" Zeldris paused at the voice that came from the side, and as he turned he stepped in front of Gelda to shield her. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. "You're not welcome here, _demon_."

Two vampires approached slowly. _Orlandi and Ren_. One looked like just a child, smiling viciously at him as he licked his lips. The other was a tall beauty with dark hair, who resembled Gelda. This one looked at him with a scowl and carried a long knife. "Did you not hear what I said?" the woman shouted. "You aren't—"

"Ren, please," Gelda called behind him, and Zeldris put his hand out to stop her from stepping forward. "This is my guard. I'm here on an errand from the Demon King," she said, praying the lie would work.

"I know who he is," Ren sneered. "And _you_ are a _traitor_ and not welcome here either."

"That's not true," she replied. Gelda drew herself up, raising her chin in an attempt to project royal authority. "I am no traitor."

"I suggest you move," Zedris said viciously.

The shorter vampire giggled, but Ren glared at him. "How dare you come here and threaten—"

"I don't care," he responded with a cool menace. The demon grabbed her arm, steering her down the hallway, but in a flash she was pushed to the side. Gelda crashed into the wall with a shout, her palms pressed against the cold stone to steady herself; when she turned around, she saw them fighting, Ren swiping at Zeldris with the knife, which he parried back with his sword. Orlandi stood to the side, his hand outstretched, and when he twisted his wrist a spray of blood exploded out of Zeldris' shoulder. The prince gave a growl and turned, sending a ball of dark violet flame at the vampire. Orlandi shouted and moved, the attack only missing him by a hair's breadth and crashing into the wall, the rock raining down on him.

Ren yelled in anger and advanced while he was distracted. But Zeldris was ready, and in a flurry of movement that she could barely see, he had her disarmed. His blade was pointed straight for her heart, and Gelda could see the power pulsing from him and down the sword. "Zeldris! What are you doing?" she cried out.

Neither he nor the vampire responded, holding each other's gazes for a long, tense moment. "You're different," Ren finally bit out.

The way Zeldris looked at her made Gelda's blood turn to ice. The power and malice that seemed to rise straight from him made her afraid. "Never speak of the queen that way again," said the demon, his tone a thinly veiled threat. "Now, move."

After a moment's hesitation, Ren stepped aside. Zeldris kept his weapon out, but followed Gelda as she shakily continued down the hallway and around a corner. When the others were out of sight she paused and whispered, "Zeldris, what—"

"Keep going," he ordered. "I told you, we need to get somewhere safe."

Although the look he gave her was not as dangerous as the one directed towards the others, it was still cold. This was the soldier, the demon prince made Ten Commandment that others feared. It had been so long since she had seen this side of him, it was becoming overwhelming. She looked at the spot he had been injured, amazed to see there was no longer any wound there. When Zeldris had last fought a vampire, it had taken him days to recover; now only minutes had passed. Was this the power of the Ten Commandments? "My rooms are this way," she whispered, and they continued on in silence.

A part of Gelda had worried that her chambers in the castle would be gone, but to her relief they were just as she had left them, only a bit dusty, as if no one had come in at all. Zeldris strode through, pulling the curtains closed and shrouding the room in darkness, but Gelda walked slowly around, tracing her eyes over the furniture and her fingers over the things around the room. So many days and nights she had spent here, waiting to leave. Waiting for someone to come and take her away; and it happened, not as she imagined it, but exactly right all the same. Even though her life did not turn out the way she had always assumed, she did not regret any of it. She refused to regret.

Her eyes lifted to look at Zeldris peeking through the closed curtain. The first and only person to ever see her as more than an object to be won, a prize to be displayed. The first and only person to ever love her. The first days they spent walking across Britannia had been fraught with pain and anger and humiliation, but at some point a change had come, a shift in the demon that had caused her to start to fall in love, something she had _never_ thought she would do, with him or anyone. Gelda had been raised to be obedient, and quiet, and strong, fit to be on the arm of a powerful being; with Zeldris she could be bold, and vulnerable, and he held her beside him, not underneath.

She was blinking away hated tears when he finally looked over at her. Zeldris visibly swallowed, and then he walked over to stand next to her. "Gelda," he said quietly. "I have something to give you."

He took her hand, and placed it in his, covering her palm with the other. Her skin began to warm, and then there was a flash of heat, so sudden that she jumped. It lasted only an instant, and then she could feel his skin against her again as he smoothed his fingers over her palm. "This is purgatory fire," he said, his voice and eyes intense. "If anyone tries to hurt you, if any of _them_ —" and here he jerked his head towards the door, "—hurts you, you can use this to protect yourself."

Gelda flexed her fingers, staring at her skin. It was unchanged, but she could feel something just beneath the surface. She pressed her hand over her chest and looked at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching out to place his hands on her arms. "Gelda, I don't have much time."

"Why did you bring me here?" she whispered. She was still so confused, so scared as to what was going on. He had told her they would never see each other again, but how could that be? Did the king no longer want her? Maybe she had displeased him, and Zeldris was trying to save her from some horrible fate. She began to tremble at the thought.

Gelda thought of all the times Zeldris had told her he would protect her, no matter what the cost. As his hands squeezed her shoulders, she knew that whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was for her.

"I can't—" he began, and huffed in aggravation. "There's something—Gelda, there is something that is going to happen. I need you to be here when it does."

"What is it?" she asked, but he just shook his head. "I need you to trust me," he answered. "Will you do that?"

Gelda nodded, and he briefly closed his eyes. Then Zeldris squeezed her shoulders and said, "No matter what happens, I'm going to come back for you. I swear it."

It felt as though the color was draining from her face as fear slid its way into her mind. "I wish you would tell me _something_."

"I can't," was all he answered. "Believe me, this is the only way I can protect you. It's the only way to save you."

"Save me!?" exclaimed Gelda. She moved back a step, but Zeldris tightened his grip on her arms. "Yes, I'm trying to save you," he hissed at her. "Now you need to trust me."

Her heart heavy in her chest, Gelda said quietly, "I do trust you."

"Good." His eyes dragged over her slowly, and Gelda watched as he seemed to drink her in before they returned to her face. "Don't forget what I said. I will come back for you."

As Gelda looked back at him, there was a sudden aching inside of her, the start of some horrible emptiness beginning. Her chest felt hollow, as if her heart was gone, barely able to comprehend as Zeldris slid his hands from her shoulders and up to the back of her neck. He leaned in a bit, and suddenly she was so _aware_ of him, more aware than she had ever been before: the curve of his lips, the faint shine in his dark eyes, the smooth skin above his brow covered in the branded mark of the demon race. There was the feel of his slightly calloused hands on her soft skin, the sound of his breathing, but the thing she was most acutely aware of was his mouth, the shape and softness as it grazed over hers, the way it felt as it curled against her bottom lip.

She reached for him, needing him like a lifeline, as if she was drowning right there. They pressed together, her hands pressed firmly on his sides, his digging into her hair as he kissed her. It was tentative at first, and Gelda allowed his lips to brush over hers, until she tilted her face up to press her lips to his. Even then the kiss remained slow, soft, lingering. "I love you, Gelda," he finally breathed against her mouth.

"I love you," she answered, barely a whisper. One last time she pressed inside of his heart, just to be sure, needing to see if he still wanted her. The barrier was still gone, and relief tinged with bitterness flooded through her when she saw herself as his heart's desire.

With one last brief brush of his lips, Zeldris pulled away. "Wait for me," he said.

She watched as he left, and when the door was shut firmly behind him, the terrible pain in her chest grew stronger. There was so much fear, and sorrow, and loss inside of her, that Gelda melted into numbness. She sat in a chair in the corner of the room, looking around at what used to be her life, barely even recognizing it anymore. Why did he bring her here? What was the meaning behind it? Her mind turned the question over and over, but still she did not understand. Gelda assumed at some point the vampires would arrive to take her to Izraf, and once more she would have to face his pompous wrath; if not them, then the demons would come to return her to the king.

So Gelda closed her eyes and waited. He told her he would come back for her, and whether that was in an hour, or a day, or a century, she did not know; but she would wait. But instead of thinking about her life as the vampire princess, waiting for Izraf to turn his wrath on her, or her life as the demon queen, the trophy to be used by a powerful and dangerous creature, Gelda imagined what it would have been like to have the life she wanted.

She would have married him, if he would have had her; she still would, even knowing how unthinkable the idea was. She dreamed of her wedding day, not to the king, but to Zeldris, thought of the way he would have given her one of his rare smiles. Their lives would not have so much heartache, but instead hope, Gelda would make sure of that. He would care for her and protect her, just as she loved him and cared for him. She saw them happy together, pictured the children they would have and the life they would create.

It was impossible, her daydream a foolish one, she knew that. But still it brought her some comfort as she waited for Zeldris to return, even as one hour after another went by, even when she felt a familiar energy fill the castle, pulling her into darkness.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Gelda…" he breathed. His lips were soft, his hands gentle, his body barely touching hers as they moved together in passion and ecstasy. The feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of his mouth and the touch of his fingertips kept her grounded, kept her real. This was her, this was love, this was _life_ , and she would not forget, she could never forget.

It had happened, over and over, years and years the pictures and words tumbled together, his name and his skin and his hair and his arms wrapped around her as she longed for every day. The days became years, ten, hundred, thousand, more, but she knew he was there, always present in her mind. It was always the _present_.

Never the past, still fresh in her mind, of Edinburgh and Britannia and the house where he had kissed her in the blue dress. The demon realm and the jewels the color of fire and ice and the weight of the king as he bruised her thighs. The soft sheets and the warm breeze that came in through the window as she lay on the bed, with him, his hands rubbing her back, their mouths moving together.

Never the future either, a crown or a cabin, a child, with dark hair and light eyes, her skin stretching around a life inside of her. His kiss on her forehead or plans for the afternoon, looking ahead to a meal or a night or the shriek of a baby in her arms. Of years _passing_ and actually _going by_.

All there was for her was dreams. Until, one day, there was a crash, and she woke up.

.o0o.

Gelda walked slowly down the great staircase, her hand pressed gently on the carved railing. It was cold here, with only the royal family left; she could not help but remember the number of vampires who used to fill the halls when Edinburgh was still thriving, the noise and light and bustle of the castle filled with life. Even after the war began, and the halls had emptied as the vampires went to to turn the humans into soldiers for the demon king, Edinburgh was the epicenter of the vampire clan, its most powerful and important members moving through the halls.

Now, the halls were silent. Only six of them remained, outside of the crowd of human slaves that guarded the front of the castle. Which is why when the summons came from the king to come to the meeting room, Gelda could not ignore it.

She had been walking through the vast rooms, remembering the people and the sounds of the castle, the lavish events that Izraf had held there, the years of upbringing as the princess. The memories came easily, despite the way the castle looked now after centuries of belonging to the humans. The touches that had made Edinburgh uniquely a part of the vampires themselves, the items that had showcased the vast history and culture of their clan were gone, replaced by those of the humans.

It had been a shock to find the room that had been hers. The large closets were filled with rows of elegant dresses, belonging to whatever royal daughter it belonged to; the room was covered in unfamiliar decorations and items, looking vastly different than when it had been hers. Her collection of trinkets were long vanished, she was sure, the jewelry gone, her pictures and books and paintings nothing but dust. Gelda sighed to herself, feeling the loss of so many years.

Now, as she descended the stairs, more images of the past surfaced, having walked down this staircase countless times in her youth, then after taking her place in the royal court, her one duty to serve the vampire clan. She had served the king well, and remained loyal to him and to the vampires… until someone came to take her away.

Quickly Gelda pushed _that_ memory aside. She entered the meeting room and found the others already there, watching an image in Izraf's looking glass. It was a Holy Knight, strolling leisurely outside. "Who is this?" Izraf was shouting as she walked up to stand with them, watching the knight. "This man's strength…?! It's on a completely different level!"

"Could he be the one responsible for sealing us?!" Ren said angrily.

Gelda's eyes snapped to the image, her heart seizing into her throat. Could it be… him? She tried to keep her expression steady as she studied the armor of the knight. It was difficult to tell with the grainy picture, the magic that created it fluctuating wildly with Izraf's erratic mood. Desperately she tried to remember what his armor had looked like; she had to have seen it, at least once, didn't she? The Holy Knight stopped to look around, raising one hand to scratch the back of his head abstractedly, then quickly lowering it when he must have realized the gauntlet and helmet would make such a gesture impossible.

Her neck suddenly felt dry and thick; she recognized the habit, she was sure of it. It was difficult for her to tell if there was anything familiar about the armor, her mind racing too fast to really stop and think about _anything_ … but _that_ , that action, that was something she had seen the demon who was now consuming her thoughts do countless times.

Izraf called a command, and the army of humans advanced on the knight, still looking around. Gelda nearly cried out, not wanting to see the soldiers descend on him, but unable to look away. Her hands trembled with fear, and she quickly clasped them together to hide her churning feelings. No matter what had happened between them, she would never have wanted to see him hurt, or killed.

The Holy Knights advanced. As the lone knight approached them, Ganne remarked, "He looks like he came here knowing what we are."

He would know, wouldn't he? He would know exactly what had been hidden inside of Edinburgh, the secret the castle had held for three thousand years. They had taken the castle back after leaving the seal, and turned or killed every last human in Edinburgh. None would dare to come there… unless one knew what to expect to find. The heat pulsing along the back of her neck flared, and there was a sudden pressure behind Gelda's eyes. Blinking rapidly to keep the tears away, she watched as he tried to speak to the humans, and then he gave a shout as they charged him.

"This guy really is an idiot," Ren scoffed as the others laughed. "He's just going to be killed by the kingdom's Holy Knights."

The tension from watching him fight transformed into a sudden anger. Gelda listened bitterly to their laughter, her nails digging into her palms as she clenched her fists. They had no idea who he was, who he _truly_ was, as if beings that dared to criticize the son of the demon king himself would even care to know the way he looked at her, defended her, gave every piece of himself to her. It was all suddenly fresh in her mind, as if it was yesterday… but for Gelda, it _had_ been yesterday.

.o0o.

They approached the demon, his energy clear, a cold fire. Gelda's heart was seized with worry when she got closer and saw his stature and his stance; the one thing she wanted more than anything and never wanted at all seemed to be more and more likely with every passing moment. How could this be, how could _he_ be, after all this time?

"I wondered what snooping fools would enter the Vampire Castle after we awaked from the long seal," Ren laughed, her voice shrill and sending a shiver of revulsion through Gelda's blood. "But I never thought to see _you_ again."

Gelda glanced at her from the side. The last time they had come face-to-face, they had fought, coming dangerously close to one or the other being killed; now, as his face turned towards them, she wondered what he would do seeing them together. His face was covered with a soldier's helmet, and Gelda could not be sure if he saw her, quickly looking away and to the ground in an unexplainable shame. So many years had she dreamt of his eyes, wanting to see him look at her again, and now that it was here she could hardly bear it.

"Do I know you?" he said, and at first the air seemed to leave her lungs. He had forgotten her. It was something she had never considered, and the idea suddenly made sense; it had, after all, been three thousand years. She clenched her hands as her eyes squeezed shut, suddenly filled with rage at him for such a sin.

"We are vampire royalty," her companion said at her side. "I am Ren of the Black Claw."

She knew she had to speak, to say _something_ , but the agony kept her from lifting her eyes as she said, "Gelda of the Thousand Temptations." A memory surfaced, of the first time she had told him this, and Zeldris had looked at her with curiosity, the smirk on his lips that he gave only to her, that was not derisive like the one he gave others, but meant that he was pleased with her.

"Well, well, well," the figure said, and with those words she knew. _She knew_. "Who do you mistake me for?"

Ren lunged for him, her hands becoming razor-sharp claws in the attack, and she watched in horror as the demon and vampire fought, wondering what it could all _mean_. This was not him; not the demon she had been waiting for, and all the pieces clicked together when Ren sliced through the helmet and revealed familiar blonde hair and a youthful face. One that had sought her once before, had threatened her in the hallway outside of her husband's throne room.

But there was still… something. He did not fight as the callous murderer, the weapon of the king he once was. Yet he wasn't the king's weapon, not anymore. He had left the clan, _he fell in love_ is what was whispered in her ear, and she could see the moves were defensive in nature, could see the lack of the demon mark on his familiar face. Even Ren must have known something was amiss. "Your personality has changed greatly since then," she said, "but I'll never forget your face."

As they fought, Gelda closed her eyes. If Meliodas was here, then where was he? Were they enemies? Friends? _How was he still alive_? Her chest felt too tight as the questions bore down on her at once, and the memory of his face was there, _always there_ , as he said that he would come back for her. _I will come back for you._

"Your power is proof enough of who you are!" Ren shrieked. "You are _Demon Zeldris_!"

Hearing his name snapped Gelda from her daze. She had to stop this, she had to speak to this demon and ask her questions. She had to know. So she raised her hand, almost instinctively, and the gift he had given her came flaring out, brighter than the sun. Gelda could hear Ren screaming, her betrayal blaring like a siren, but she felt nothing at all, even when Ren's eyes turned to hers, even when she asked why with her last breath.

The dust settled. In the quiet moments after the purgatory fire burned away, her eyes connected with the green ones of the demon in front of her. And in that moment, she saw a truth that she recognized as her own. She saw a loss she knew as her own.

She knew that Zeldris was gone.

It didn't matter when, why, or how. He hadn't come back for her the way that he had promised, and there was only one thing that would keep him from her side, one thing that would make him break such a promise: death. He knowledge was thick in her throat, the emptiness no longer a place for freedom but instead a crushing weight. He was gone, and she survived.

"I already know that you are not him." Gelda was amazed at the even tone of her voice, astounded by her steadiness, when all she wanted to do was to scream, cry, destroy. "I know who you really are." Their eyes were still locked together, and she marveled at how similar they were. "That's why I have a favor to ask of you."

His eyes widened; surprised, she was sure, that she would dare ask someone like _him_ for a favor. "Please, kill me."

There was a time when Gelda had thought Meliodas wanted her dead, and such a request would probably bring his blade straight through her, cutting her into two. But _this_ Meliodas, the one with pain behind his eyes, faltered: _this_ Meliodas did not raise his hand to strike.

"I know what happened," she said softly. "Do you know? How there were whispers of treason by my father, so that the king needed to make an _example_. An example of all of us. We were to be executed." Despite this heavy truth, Gelda could not help but smile as she said, "Our executor was to be Zeldris."

His face twisted. Now he could see, now he understood what she was trying to say. "But he…" She choked on her words, as if admitting it all out loud suddenly made it real.

"He didn't kill the vampires," Meliodas said. "He chose to seal you all instead."

 _No matter what happens, I'm going to come back for you. I swear it._

"And he did it for you."

 _Don't forget what I said. I will come back for you._

"I'm already weary," she whispered. "He's of the proud demon clan, and I'm of the treacherous vampires." She looked away, her eyes dry, wanting Meliodas to understand. "I don't want a life of existing, no aim or goal, just to continue with nothing. So please, kill me."

"I understand." Gelda's eyes closed briefly at his words, and she dared to glance over. His face was hardened, the anguish inside of him turning to anger. But Gelda only felt happiness.

.o0o.

The castle of Edinburgh was gone. Zeldris stared unbelieving at the mountains of blasted rock and the aged rubble that lay everywhere. The others were standing around discussing what could have happened, but the demon did not listen. There was a buzzing inside of his head as his wide eyes took in the destruction.

Without a word to the rest he strode forward. There had to be _something_ left, some clue, some sign. His blood was pounding, his muscles tensed. His focus was so sharp on looking for something, he nearly did not see what was right in front of his eyes; it was Galan's metal-clad hand that stopped him from nearly pitching headfirst into the hole that formed the earth into the largest crater he had ever seen.

His breath left his body in a forceful blow. Memories of the castle played continually in his head, pictures flipping like pages in a book: the great iron doors, the parapets carved out of the jagged rock, the spires that scraped the sky. Inside the castle, fine marble covered the floors, towering columns forming archways in the winding hallways that all led to the Great Hall; its ceiling several stories high, accented by the sweeping grand staircase with the intricately carved stone railings. The metal sconces, the detailed tapestries, the carvings and statues that had decorated the castle… gone.

"It would appear a magical force exploded," Melascula said, and Zeldris' chest tightened. "It exploded out in a radius, right from the center of the castle. It had to be a considerable amount of force."

"Look there!" Galan shouted, pointing into the crater.

Zeldris walked to the edge, folding his arms and peering down. It was the very definition of nothing; it seemed to go on for _miles_ of pitch blackness.

"Residual energy," Graylord breathed. "Makes sense… it's deep… thirty thousand feet…"

 _Thirty thousand feet?_ Zeldris felt a white hot flash of rage flare inside of him. The castle wasn't just gone, the vampires weren't gone; they had been obliterated.

"He did this," Zeldris growled. "This is Meliodas' doing." He tried his best to keep his voice from shaking. "That bastard… what the hell happened here…" _How could he do this?_

.o0o.

Meliodas was gone, his chance to eradicate his enemy gone. Zeldris was boiling, but the cold veneer that had become a second skin kept it all inside as he gave the command. "Move into groups of two," Zeldris said. "Prioritize recovering our magic. Use whatever force you deem necessary to eradicate the other clans."

"Are you declaring war against Meliodas?" Fraudrin asked.

"A declaration of war?" Zeldris turned and glared at him over his shoulder. "This isn't war," he growled. "This is extermination."

The others lifted up, gone into the sky to carry out the orders Zeldris gave on behalf of the demon king. All except one, his brother, lounging nearby. "Are you not leaving yet?" he called over.

Estarossa did not bother to open his eyes. "It's the first time we've been outside in three thousand years," he said slowly. "Let me enjoy the fresh air a bit."

"Perfect," Zeldris said quietly. "I have something I need to do near here as well."

Leaving Estarossa behind, Zeldris walked back towards where Edinburgh once stood. He had no hope in his heart that he would find any trace of her there, but he had to look all the same. He had to burn the sight of that crater in the earth into his mind. He had to look down in the darkness where the only thing that mattered to him once stood, waiting for him. He needed to memorize the place where his promise had been broken.

The crater was just as they had left it, and the emotion that had long gone cold within him did not stir. It was all supposed to be so simple: take out the other clans, win Britannia for the king, and then Zeldris would be able to claim his prize. He would take Gelda from the seal and find a way to forge a new beginning for them both, away from everyone else.

But the goddess clan had played an unthinkable hand. _Meliodas_ had even had a hand in it, and that _woman_ of his, the one who had turned him from them and started this entire unraveling. He had seen the look in Meliodas' eyes when he had arrived so suddenly in their midst. Those were the eyes of someone with something to fight for. The eyes of someone with something left to lose.

Zeldris crouched by the edge, looking into the vastness. It was a marvel, this destruction. Only one being in Britannia could have done such a thing. That being had something he loved, he knew it when he saw his face. Meliodas had taken something from him, and now Zeldris would not stop until he took from Meliodas.

A breeze went by, the air soft on his skin. He had known softness once, a gentle touch, a quiet sound, silky hair and velvet skin. Zeldris leaned into the breeze, wanting a bit more; but the air stilled, and he was surrounded by the silence once again.

* * *

 **A/N:** It is always bittersweet to come to the end of a story, especially, for me, two characters I have grown to love so much. I hope that those of you who read this enjoyed, and those that also read _Sacred Inferno_ were left as satisfied, but in a different way. I have at least one more story about these two to share, and I'm also working on some new Meliodas/Elizabeth pieces, so please keep a lookout in the very, very near future.

I must give credit to Nakaba Suzuki for portions of the dialogue in this last part, and my apologies for the creative license I took with the story.

Finally, I must thank several people without whose support I would have never, ever created or completed this story. BettyBest2, your love for these characters inspires me and I'm grateful for your enthusiasm and feedback. Cerulean Grace, the hours we've spent discussing Zeldris and Gelda have been invaluable in crafting their story over and over and I thank you for sharing your creativity with me. Woundedowl, your support and encouragement is always above and beyond and I could never ask for a better cheerleader. Vetur02, your passion for this story kept it going well past my own and you probably deserve a byline for the inspiration you gave.


End file.
